


The Seventh Segment

by secooper87



Series: Adventures of a Line Hopper [13]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Doctor Who
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Fate, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Horror, Humor, Moral Ambiguity, Time War, Timey-Wimey, Torture, Tragedy, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-09 11:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 99,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secooper87/pseuds/secooper87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What can you do when every single option is unthinkable?  When there is no "right", just "wrong"?  The Doctor and Buffy's Quest for Excalibur redefines every boundary and trust between them, as they struggle against destiny, fate, and inevitability.  (And is Slayer strength enough to stop Donna from beating up Riley Finn?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series of short stories, all spanning the year that Buffy faced off against Glory (Buffy season 5), and the time when the Doctor traveled with Donna (Doctor Who series 4). These short stories are _selections from_ that year. They aren't the only times that Buffy and the Doctor interacted during that year. If you don't understand that, then the rest of it makes no sense.
> 
> Occasionally, it'll be obvious that one story follows another. But in general, you can assume that the Doctor and Buffy are having other interactions in between.
> 
> Some of these stories are long, some are short. The short ones I'll post in their entirety all at once. The long ones I'm going to have to parcel out over a few days.

It was the end of summer that Buffy had seen him.

He was standing far enough away that she almost didn't make him out. The tall, thin figure, wearing a torn pair of pinstripe pants and a blue collared shirt, standing beside his TARDIS. His skin glowed a faint gold color in the darkness of night, and his eyes looked so very, very sad, as they met hers.

He turned, and stumbled into his ship.

"Doctor, wait!" Buffy shouted, chasing after him.

But the TARDIS wheezed and groaned, and it had faded away long before Buffy had a chance to get to it.

Willow, Giles, Xander, and Riley all raced over to her, asking a million questions all at once. Why had the Doctor just left like that? What was happening? Why was he kind of glowing gold and stuff?

Buffy didn't answer. She knew.

He was dying. This was him saying goodbye.

She had been intending to spend the evening with Riley, but ever since she discovered what Riley had done to the Doctor at the Initiative, she had never wanted to confide in Riley about the Doctor. Hadn't even wanted to bring the Doctor up around Riley. She went home, instead.

"Your friend came to see you," her mom told her. "I said you were out, so he gave me this."

Her mom held out a thin white envelope for Buffy, one that was labeled with only the name, "Elizabeth" on the outside. Buffy took it, tracing her fingers across the lettering. Elizabeth.

She loved it when he called her that.

She loved the way he seemed to relish it as he said it, the way every single vowel sound seemed to overflow with affection. She loved the way his tongue tripped over the syllables, the way the sides of his lips seemed to naturally arc into a smile when he was done. A name she hated, so much, a name that wasn't even her own.

But when the Doctor called her Elizabeth, it was hers.

She opened the envelope, and examined the contents inside. She frowned, as she pulled out a small key on a piece of string. The TARDIS key. She examined the note that accompanied the key.

_Give it to her right away. And tell her that when a third of the world ascends to the rooftops, she should wear it. Tell her not to take it off until the Prime Minister in the skies is dead. Remember, Elizabeth: a key is not always a key. And this one isn't, either. But it will keep her safe._

_When Dawn comes, you'll know what to do._

_— the Doctor_

Buffy glanced at the key, confused. She had no idea what any of the message meant. At all. She put the key away, and tucked the envelope under her pillow. In the morning, she'd know what it meant. When the sun came up, she'd understand it.

The next day, the sun rose. And she had no idea what to do.

One week later, Buffy met Dracula. And a few days after that, she met Donna Noble.


	2. Not a Sword

"So you're saying we're looking for a sword," said Donna.

The Doctor was flitting around the TARDIS, removing panels of grating and pulling out different items that looked (to Donna) like things you'd find in a rubbish sale back on 21st century Earth. He'd then examine every item using his 'brainy specs', rotate it in his hand, then chuck it aside.

"Possibly," said the Doctor, darting to another panel of metal grating. "But possibly not. It could be anything, Donna! Anything!" He pulled out an item that very much resembled the engine car of a model train set. "A grain of sand, someone's left shoe, maybe even a snowflake — but not a snowflake." He chucked the model train over his shoulder, and then continued searching. "Southern California. Very little snow. Almost certainly not a snowflake."

"So we're not looking for a sword," Donna clarified.

"Might be a sword," said the Doctor. "Might be anything. Um, not a scythe, though — that's hidden round about the same place. Know about that one. But yes. Possibly a sword. Like I said before, could be anything."

Donna wondered, sometimes, how exactly it was the Doctor's brain worked. "Doctor, you said we were looking for Excalibur."

"Ah, yes, well, not really Excalibur, just the nearest equivalent thereof," said the Doctor. "In this universe, at any rate. Last Excalibur I found was from the Arthurian Universe. Nearly wound up destroying modern England with a nuclear warhead, that did."

Donna had little or no idea what that could possibly mean, so she decided to ignore it.

"And we're looking for Excalibur," continued Donna, "which is a mythical sword once wielded by the King of England, in California. In the year 2000. AD."

"Exactly," said the Doctor. He finally lifted out a device that looked a little like a toaster, if said toaster had been designed by both Albert Einstein and Frank Lloyd Wright. The Doctor grinned at it, and put the grating back. "There you are! Good as new. What did I tell you?"

Donna crossed her arms. "Doctor," she warned him.

"Oh, yes, sorry," said the Doctor, standing up to face her. Then he hesitated, as he realized he wasn't quite sure why she was mad at him. "I, er…" he raised up the device. "Psychic augmentation detector?"

"I want to know," said Donna, in her best don't-mess-with-me voice, "exactly what it is we're looking for, why we're looking for it, and why we're looking in bloody California!"

The Doctor hesitated. "We're looking for a segment," he admitted. "A segment to a very powerful Key. It could be disguised as anything, anything at all — but it has the power to crack open the walls between dimensions. Just like Excalibur! See?"

"No," said Donna.

"Well, Excalibur wasn't actually a sword, it was a key to a trans-temporal, trans-dimensional, trans-universal gateway which could—"

"Doctor," Donna cut in, before the techno babble could start up again in full. He looked at her, a single eyebrow raised. Donna cleared her throat. "We are looking for a mythical English sword. In California. A sword that doesn't look like a sword. And doesn't act like a sword."

The Doctor shrugged. "Suppose so."

"So if it doesn't look like a sword and doesn't act like a sword, then what about it makes it a bloody sword in the first place?" Donna demanded.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "It's… actually… not a sword. At all. Just a segment."

Donna decided that this was Spaceman talk for 'stop asking me stupid questions, Donna, and play along.' Fine. She'd do that, then. "Okay," said Donna. "So, assuming we can actually find this 'sword that isn't really a sword', what are we going to do with it?"

"Destroy it," said the Doctor. "Best thing, really. You don't want to go messing with trans-temporal, trans-dimensional, trans-universal portals, Donna, take my word on it. Daleks, Cybermen, nuclear bombs — never know what'll turn up, really. And if that segment ever leaves this solar system, if it destabilizes the Lock — well, best not even think about that."

"And you've got the toaster because…?"

The Doctor raised up the super-toaster. "Not a toaster," said the Doctor. "Psychic augmentation detector. Whoever's hidden this thing really didn't want it to be found. Memory alteration, psychic manipulation, the works. Even a fair amount of matter transmutation, actually. Not to worry, though. This'll pinpoint the locus of the psychic interference matrix."

"In English?"

"We're looking for something that has suddenly popped into existence," explained the Doctor. "Except no one in the town knows that it's popped into existence, because someone's cast a magic spell to make everyone believe this object has always been there."

Donna thought she actually understood that. She must be learning to speak Spaceman. "So all we have to do is jog these people's memories so they'll realize the sword isn't actually supposed to be there in the first place. Then they'll give us the sword, and we can destroy it."

"That's the plan," said the Doctor. "And, well, if they still don't feel like giving it to us, we'll just nick it."

"We're going to wind up running for our lives again, aren't we?" asked Donna.

The Doctor grinned. "Oh, yes!"

Donna looked down at what she was wearing — a tasteful skirt with beautiful black high-heel shoes. "All right," she said. "Let me get changed."

* * *

The Doctor was angry with his toaster. Probably because it wasn't working right. Or because he simply didn't like it anymore. Or maybe he just didn't like toast. Donna couldn't tell. All she knew was that the Doctor kept smacking it, shaking it, and muttering evil-sounding things to it under his breath.

"Oi!" said Donna. "What did that toaster ever do to you?"

"It's not a toaster, it's — oh, never mind," said the Doctor. He gestured for her to come over, and she noticed a series of bleeping numbers appearing on the side of the toaster. He pointed at them. "This is telling me that we're at the locus of the interference matrix already, but I know this town, and there's nothing out of the ordinary. Which means the psychic augmentation detector is giving us faulty readings."

"Oh, well that's just blooming fantastic," said Donna. "We're looking for Excalibur — in California — and your toaster isn't working. End of the world, that is."

"End of the universe, more like," said the Doctor.

Donna frowned. "What, are you serious?"

The Doctor glanced up at her, and Donna could tell, in an instant, that he was.

"So we're looking for a mystical sword that isn't actually a mystical sword, and if we don't find it, the universe is going to end?" Donna asked.

"Could do," said the Doctor. Then he hit the toaster again, and shook it. "It's not working," he said. He sat down on the curb, dug his sonic screwdriver out of his coat pocket, and started buzzing at the toaster. "Why don't you look around and see what you can find?"

"See what I can find?" asked Donna. She crossed her arms. "I've never been here before, Spaceman! How am I supposed to know if something's just popped into existence?"

"Ask someone," said the Doctor, obviously too preoccupied with his toaster to register what he was saying.

Donna gave him her best defiant stare, but it was obvious that the Doctor couldn't understand why this particular brilliant plan of his was doomed to failure. Donna sighed, and marched off to the nearest door in sight, knocking on it with all the professional manner she'd acquired over her many years working in offices.

The door opened, and there, standing behind it, was a petite blond woman wearing a pink halter-top and dark navy shorts. She looked about 20, but her poise and determination spoke of a wisdom far beyond her years. "Hello?"

Donna put on her best smile. "Hi, Donna Noble. You haven't, by any chance, seen a sword that doesn't look like a sword and doesn't act like a sword, have you?"

"Huh?" asked the woman. "Wait, you're looking for a sword?"

"Yes," said Donna.

"But it doesn't look like a sword or act like a sword?"

"Yes."

"So… what does it look and act like?"

"No idea."

The woman nodded, slowly. "Okay. So, this might sound like a dumb question, but if I don't know what it looks like, how would I know if I've seen it?"

"Beats me," said Donna. She looked over her shoulder at the Doctor. "Oi! Spaceman!" she called. "I told you this wasn't going to work!"

His head jerked up, the screwdriver slipping a little in his hands, and there was a loud bang as the toaster exploded, cogs and wires flying through the air. The Doctor emerged from the cloud of debris, putting his sonic back into his coat pocket.

The woman looked over Donna's shoulder, and sighed. "I should have guessed," she said. "This has Doctor written all over it." She waved at the Doctor, and he waved back, a little awkwardly.

"Hello, Elizabeth," said the Doctor, walking towards them. "Thought this street looked familiar."

Donna gawped, her eyes darting between the Doctor and the petite woman. "You two know each other?"

"It's a long story," said the woman — Elizabeth?

"And you're… Elizabeth," said Donna.

The woman offered Donna her hand. "It's Buffy, actually. Buffy Summers. He's sort of the only one who's allowed to call me Elizabeth."

Donna shook the hand. She thought that the name Buffy sounded like something you'd call your cat and not your mate, but who was she to argue? "Donna Noble," said Donna, even as she realized she already had.

"So _you're_ Donna," said Buffy. "Huh. Go figure. I always wondered what you looked like." She glanced over at the Doctor. "This is pretty early in your timeline for you, isn't it? You haven't even done the whole Trio of Hell thing yet."

"Nope," said the Doctor.

Buffy leaned against the door frame. "So, why are you in Sunnydale? Is the world coming to an end again?"

"Oh, just looking for something," said the Doctor. "Bit of a quest. Actually, you might be able to help. Temporally aware and all that. We're trying to find—"

"Look who's showed up again," came a teenage voice from inside the house. Donna watched as a skinny teenage girl approached the door. "Your secret boyfriend."

Buffy turned. "Dawn, he's not my boyfriend!"

Donna was more interested in the Doctor, who had frozen right where he was, staring, open-mouthed, at Dawn. There was a trace of something in his face — disbelief? Shock? Horror? Sorrow? — all overshadowed by a sudden, terrible loneliness. Seriously, she'd give a hundred pounds just to figure out how Skinny's brain worked, sometimes.

(Or was he just missing the family he could never have?)

Buffy pushed Dawn away from the door, and turned back to the Doctor. "Sorry about that," said Buffy. "You know how sisters are."

"Sisters," breathed the Doctor. "You… have a sister."

"Yeah, Dawn," said Buffy. She frowned. "Actually, have you met her, yet? I mean, she's met you, but I think she's only met future yous." Buffy hesitated, and glanced back over her shoulder. "I should probably talk to her about the whole not-revealing-personal-future thing before I introduce you." She backed up, and opened the door. "Oh, um, will you come in? It's, I mean, my mom's out, so it's just my sister and me, but I'm happy to help with this quest thing you're on."

The Doctor blinked, a mask of happy indifference crashing across his face. "Help," the Doctor muttered, as he entered the house. "Yes. Could use that. Certainly could use that. Bit of help all around, I should think."

Buffy led them into the living room, gesturing for the Doctor and Donna to sit down on the couch. "So, you said you were looking for something? A sword?"

"What? Oh, no," said the Doctor, sitting down. Donna sat beside him. "Sort of — bit of a wild goose chase. Not really that important, anyways."

Wait, that wasn't right. What about end of the universe? Donna turned on the Doctor. "Doctor, I—"

The Doctor cut her off with a warning arch of his eyebrow. Donna looked back at Buffy, then at the Doctor. And it hit her, all at once, that he'd already found the thing he was looking for.

Donna hadn't seen any swords or anything, though. So she wasn't really sure what the Doctor had found that made him so jumpy.

"Oh, come on," said Buffy. "I'm up for a little seek and discover thing. What are you looking for?"

"Excalibur," said the Doctor. "Just, you know. What with Morgaine trying to detonate an atomic bomb in the English countryside three years ago and all."

"You mean Morgan Le Fay?" asked Buffy. "From the Arthurian Legends?"

"I'm her arch-nemesis," said the Doctor. "Merlin, that's me. Will be me. Bit acausal, but still works."

" _You're_ Merlin?" Buffy laughed. "Willow is going to be so pissed off when I tell her."

"Oi!" cried the Doctor. "I'm going to be a great Merlin someday."

"And your sonic screwdriver is your magic wand!" Buffy cried, laughing even harder. She collapsed onto the couch beside the Doctor — a little bit closer than Donna thought was appropriate for two 'just mates'. The Doctor didn't seem to mind in the slightest — although he did give a theatrical little pout at her laughing at him. "Oh, you have _got_ to take me to Camelot when you go there. I so want to see you all magicky and stuff with your sonic screwdrivers and your atomic bombs and everything."

The Doctor's mask dropped a hair, and for a moment he seemed very, very sad, and incredibly lonely. A sort of terrible doomed sort of look, as if the Doctor were condemned to die, and merely waiting for the time when it would happen. Buffy was laughing too hard to notice. But Donna noticed. Two seconds later, the mask was back in place, and the Doctor was back to looking at Buffy, indignantly.

"Three years ago?" Donna asked the Doctor. "You mean we're here looking for something you last saw three years ago? Why didn't you pick it up then?"

"It was more than three years ago for me," said the Doctor. "And besides. I was a wee bit busy averting a nuclear holocaust."

"Morgan La Fey, powerful witch and sorceress," Buffy mused, her laughter dying down into giggles. "You know, I can't picture her being all atomic bomby."

"Course she was," the Doctor protested. "I should know; I was there. Demons, bombs, interdimensional bits, the whole nine yards. You think nothing happens outside of Sunnydale?"

"You. Are. Bonkers," said Donna.

"Oi!" said the Doctor. "That's all true, that is. Completely 100% factual. If you don't believe me, you can ask Alistair. He was there, too."

Buffy shot the Doctor a slightly flirty grin. "I could totally see you doing that. Mr. Magic Merlin Guy."

"I think he makes half of it up," said Donna, leaning back against the sofa cushions.

"So, what's Excalibur like?" Buffy asked the Doctor.

"Sorry?"

"Well, you said it was a sword, but it didn't act like a sword or look like a sword, so what does it act and look like?" Buffy asked.

"Could look like anything," said the Doctor. "And as for what it does, well, that's sort of a bit… technical. Best just say, in the wrong hands, might be a wee bit catastrophic."

"End of the universe?" asked Buffy.

"Something like that."

"You do universe-ending catastrophes like I do apocalypses," said Buffy. "This should be old hat to you."

The Doctor shrugged. "Should be."

Buffy tucked her knees up on the sofa. "So, you're on a quest," she said. "To find Excalibur. And save the universe."

"Yep," said the Doctor.

"And you're looking in California because…?" Buffy examined the Doctor, carefully. "Let me guess. You were aiming for England in the Middle Ages, but for some crazy reason that has nothing to do with the fact that you're a lousy driver, you wound up in California, 2000 instead?"

Donna opened her mouth to negate this, but the Doctor cut in, first. "Yes!" he said to Buffy. "I mean, no! I mean, well, meant to land here all along, really. Nothing to do with faulty navigation."

Buffy laughed. "Admit it," she said. "You're not here for the sword. You're just here to see me, again." She gave him a very wide grin.

And he met her smile with his own. Their eyes locked, almost twinkling as they sat there, far too close together, staring at one another, almost trying to pass some sort of nonverbal communication.

Donna wished they'd stop with the lovey-dovey faces and just start snogging already. Seriously. The sexual tension was so thick, you'd need a bloody chainsaw to slice through it.

"I want to hear about Excalibur," Dawn complained, as she entered the room. "I don't understand what's so secret about this meeting, anyways. It's not like you're talking about anything that important."

Buffy looked away from the Doctor, her eyes snapping over to her sister. A look of complete frustration passed across her face, as she tried to keep calm. "Doctor, Donna, will you excuse me a moment, please?" she asked, getting up from the couch.

She then dragged her sister out of the room, up the stairs, and slammed a door behind them.

Donna turned on the Doctor. "Doctor, I thought you said—?"

The Doctor shushed her, listening carefully. The moment he heard Dawn and Buffy's muffled voices echoing through the household, he whispered to Donna, "I should have known this was going to happen."

"What?" asked Donna.

"Remember, on the TARDIS, I told you that segments of the Key to Time could be disguised as anything, anything at all?" the Doctor asked. "Thing is, that's not entirely the truth. They can be disguised as anything… or anyone."

Donna thought back to the way that the Doctor had reacted to Dawn, the way he'd stared at her. The way he'd asked Buffy about her sister.

"You don't mean…?" asked Donna, but she was sure that was exactly what he meant. "No."

"Elizabeth is an only child," said the Doctor. "She doesn't have a sister. I've seen her in two timelines, and she's never had a sister." He ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, I'm so thick! I should have seen this a mile off. They knew I was going to destroy it. Those monks, they knew that the moment they created another segment, I'd track it down and get rid of it. They were ready for me."

"It's… that girl?" asked Donna.

"Yes."

Donna shook her head in denial. "No, no," she said. "You're wrong. She's just a kid. And you said your toaster was giving you faulty readings."

The Doctor hung his head. "I don't need a psychic augmentation detector or a tracer. I can see it, Donna," he said. "Plain as the nose on your face. The segment to the Key to Time — it's her. Dawn Summers. Those monks transformed the energy into a person — an innocent little girl." His grip on the couch cushions tightened. "Just one more innocent victim."

Donna felt sudden horror wash across her, as she realized what the Doctor was saying.

"Doctor, you can't—" Donna began.

The Doctor's head shot up. "And if I don't, then what?" he demanded. His face was stony, his gaze icy, and he was the same Doctor who'd terrified Donna when she'd first met him. "There are no other Time Lords, Donna. If that energy ever gets loose, if that portal opens, there will be no way to stabilize it. Every wall encircling reality will collapse. The entire multiverse will blend together, every universal law will be overwritten. And if we live through that, if that doesn't mean the end of the universe, then the Time Lock will snap, and the entire time vortex will be destroyed. Do you understand, Donna? Do you understand what's at risk?"

In the background, Donna could hear Buffy and Dawn talking to one another, in stern voices. Donna felt a terrible sorrow, hearing them bicker like that. They sounded so much like normal sisters, it was hard to imagine that they hadn't been that way forever.

"She's an innocent person," said Donna. "She's just a child. Please, Doctor. You can't."

The Doctor massaged his forehead with his thumb and index finger, but said nothing.

"We can take her with us," said Donna. "She'll be safe in the TARDIS."

"She won't," said the Doctor. "She can't leave this solar system, Donna. Dawn Summers is inherently unstable — the seventh segment of a six-segment Key. Any fluctuations in the energy she's carrying, and cracks could appear. And I will not be responsible for letting any more Daleks into this reality. I will not do that."

Donna stared at the Doctor. "Does she even know what she is?"

"No," said the Doctor. "The Princess Astra didn't, not until the preassigned point in space and time when everything converged. Dawn won't, either, and neither will Elizabeth. No one here knows anything about the danger they're in. And if anyone knows, the energy will be unleashed, and the universe will be destroyed."

"So don't tell them," said Donna.

The Doctor shook his head.

"Oi, listen to me, Spaceman," said Donna. "It's not like she could just Orbitz up a flight out of the solar system or anything. And if no one except me and you know what she really is, no one knows enough to unleash the energy."

There was a small flicker of hesitation in the Doctor's eyes. That was a good sign.

"I couldn't," the Doctor decided. "I couldn't take the risk."

"She's an innocent child," Donna insisted. "You can't kill an innocent human child!"

The Doctor just stared down at his hands. His expression was dark, hopeless, thoroughly dangerous and desperate and angry.

"What's one more?" he muttered.

Buffy and Dawn emerged in the doorway, and Donna sprang to her feet. She didn't know what the Doctor meant by that last comment, but she knew she wasn't going to let him do something like this. She hadn't, back in Pompeii, and he'd told her she was right. So she wasn't going to let him do it, now.

The Doctor looked up, a carefree smile back on his face. He got up off the couch, looking so innocent and friendly and harmless, it was… creepy. Spooky.

Neither Dawn nor Buffy seemed to realize anything was wrong.

"Okay," said Buffy, trying to reassure herself more than those around her. She looked over at the Doctor. "Doctor, this is my sister, Dawn. Dawn, this is the Doctor." She then added, in a more pointed tone of voice, "who hasn't met you yet."

"I know," snapped Dawn. She went over to the Doctor, awkwardly, one hand in her jeans pocket. She gave the Doctor a little wave. "Hi."

"Dawn," said the Doctor, giving her a charming smile. "Lovely name. Dawn. Never met a Dawn before. Met a number of Elizabeths, but never any Dawns. Well, almost never." He extended a hand to her. "I'm the Doctor."

"And I'm Donna," Donna cut in. She barged over to the trio, and tried to insert herself between the Doctor and Dawn. "And, no, maybe I'm not an alien, but I'm every bit as important as Skinny, here, I'll tell you that."

"Hi," said Dawn. She seemed less than enthused. Fine with Donna. As long as she didn't get killed, anything she did was fine with Donna. Except that whole blowing up the universe thing. That was less fine with Donna.

"So, Dawn," said Donna, "tell us about yourself. What sort of things do you like?"

The Doctor arched an eyebrow at Donna, but she ignored him. The Doctor didn't kill people — not like this. Maybe if the Doctor saw Dawn as a real person, and not a sword, then the Doctor wouldn't be able to kill her.

"I don't know," said Dawn. "I guess I sort of like magic and stuff. You know, like Willow and Tara do. That's pretty cool."

"What, magic's real?" Donna asked. She turned to the Doctor. "You going to take me to Hogwarts next?"

"Oh, my God, you've read that?" Dawn asked. She looked over at Buffy. "See? I told you they weren't books for babies."

"Are you kidding me?" Donna said. "I loved them. Oh, and that bit where Sirius Black—"

"Donna," the Doctor warned.

Donna swung around and gave him a long, angry glare. The Doctor's calm external mask faltered, just a hair. This time, Buffy seemed to notice. She frowned.

The Doctor put his mask back into place, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Nothing past the third book," he told Donna. Then he turned, and strode out of the living room.

Buffy looked from him to her sister and Donna. Buffy had clearly picked up on something. And… well, the Doctor obviously cared about Buffy quite a lot ('just mates?' Ha!). And Dawn _was_ her sister…

"You better go after him," Donna told Buffy. "He's in a right snit, now."

Buffy looked over her shoulder, at where the Doctor had disappeared, then back at Dawn. "Don't do anything stupid," she warned Dawn, then ran after the Doctor.

* * *

Buffy rushed out of the house, and, spotting the tan trench coat down the street, darted after it. She caught the Doctor by his arm, and he glanced over his shoulder at her. His face still looked mildly cheerful, vaguely amused, completely normal. But his eyes… there was something wrong in his eyes. Buffy could see that.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," said the Doctor. He started walking, again — a casual, easy stride. "Absolutely nothing. Well, trying to find a mythical English sword in California, but aside from that, nothing at all."

Buffy matched pace, beside him.

"It was Dawn, wasn't it?" she asked. "She's already said or done something that's told you something about your own future, and now you're—"

"Buffy," the Doctor interrupted. "I'm fine. Nothing bothering me. Nothing the matter. Just need to be alone."

Buffy felt her heart pounding a little louder. "You called me Buffy."

"Well, that is your name," said the Doctor.

Oh, wow, this was a _really_ young version of him! He didn't even know about _that_ , yet? "Doctor, when you call me Buffy, I pick up stuff from you," Buffy explained. "You know. Telepathic stuff. Emotions and things."

The Doctor froze. "Sorry, you what?"

"I pick up telepathic — wait, why don't you know this?" Buffy asked him. "You've always called me Elizabeth instead of Buffy, even at this point in your personal timeline."

The Doctor turned to face Buffy. "Well, you asked me to," he said. "Not… yet, I mean. In… your future." He cleared his throat, and straightened his tie, his face melting into guilt. "What… did you pick up, exactly? When I said your name?"

"Worry," said Buffy. "Disbelief. Sorrow. Anger. All of which means I'm probably right." She sighed. "Look, I wasn't good at this, either, when I first met you, remember? I kept trying to resume conversations you hadn't had yet. But you gave me a chance, and I got better. Give her a chance, and Dawn will, too."

The Doctor examined Buffy, carefully. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he breathed, "You love her."

"She's my sister," said Buffy. "I mean, yeah, she thinks she's the center of the world, and yeah, she annoys the hell out of me, but I still love her."

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment.

"Doctor," said Buffy. "If there's something wrong—"

"Why do you trust me?" the Doctor asked her. His voice had suddenly shifted from lighthearted and carefree to dark, edgy, dangerous. Any trace of happiness fell off his face, and all that was left was a raw, bitter anger tinged with sorrow and guilt.

Buffy frowned. "Huh?"

"Angel knew me far longer than you," said the Doctor. "And he knows enough not to trust me. You claim you've met future mes. You clearly know me well enough to know who I really am and what I've done. What I could do. So why do you keep trusting me?"

Buffy crossed her arms. Great. So this was an other-her thing. "You're not going to destroy my life," she told him. "You know why? Because I'm not going to let you."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

"You're forgetting," said Buffy. "I'm the Slayer. Anything I don't want doesn't happen."

"Two-thirds of the population of this planet is going to die over the next century," said the Doctor. "All children. All innocent. And you won't be able to stop it. Because I killed them. Did you know that?"

Buffy blinked at him, confused. That figure sounded familiar to Buffy, from… oh, that's right. When she'd first met him.

"Omega said that," Buffy said. "But, I mean, that was about the vampire thing. With the First. And I fixed that. The First didn't get you. You're not a vampire, you're not going to kill—"

"I already have," the Doctor told her. "It's in my past. That's how I know you can't stop it. Because you didn't."

Buffy didn't know what to say to this.

"Stop trusting me, Elizabeth," he said, turning to go. "Because from now on, I am your enemy."

Buffy grabbed him by the back of his coat, and dragged him back to face her. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

The Doctor said nothing.

"Is this a guilt thing?" asked Buffy. "Because I'm done with the guilt thing. Not everything in the universe is your fault."

The Doctor extricated himself from her grip on his coat. "I'm just letting you know it's me," he said, "so that, after it happens, you don't blame anyone else."

"After what happens?"

The Doctor just gave her a hard stare, then continued to walk off.

Buffy caught his arm, and spun him around to face her. She gripped him by his forearms, holding him in place.

"After what happens?" she said. "What are you going to do?"

"What I have to," said the Doctor.

And Buffy could tell by the harsh look in his eyes, by his cold demeanor and his stance, that it was something he really, really didn't want to do. Something she really, really wasn't going to like.

"No," said Buffy.

"You can't stop me."

"I could always stop you," said Buffy. "I just don't like to do it by force."

"Then stop me."

Buffy felt a chill run up her spine as she heard those words. The words she would repeat to him, in her past but his future. She loosened her grip on his arms, and he pulled away from her.

"Tell Donna I'm sorry," said the Doctor. "I had to do it. I have no other choice."

"Had to do what?" Buffy asked. "What are you going to do?"

The Doctor turned, and headed off down the street, his hands tense by his sides, his jaw set, his eyes blazing. "One of the worst things I've ever done," he said.

Buffy ran in front of him and pushed him back. He caught himself before falling.

"Not good enough," she snapped.

She reached out to grab him and hold him in place, but he caught her wrists in his hands, and stared into her eyes.

"This," said the Doctor, through his teeth, "is the day you will hate me forever. This is the day you'll curse my name, and decide that you want nothing more than my head on a platter. This is the day that I become your greatest enemy. And I have no choice. Because some thick, imbecilic humans decided to mess around with forces they don't understand, and now I have to do something that will make me hate myself. And I'll do it. Because I've done it before. Because what's one more innocent life? What's one more death on my head, after I've murdered so many others?"

Buffy just stared at him. "What's wrong with you?"

The Doctor dropped her hands. "Everything." He turned around, and started walking away, again. "If it means anything, I'm sorry about this."

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Me too."

And in one swift movement, Buffy knocked the Doctor across the head, so that he dropped, unconscious, to the ground. She stared at him, a moment, trying to digest what had just happened. What he had just told her. He was going to kill someone. One innocent life. And whoever it was, Buffy knew them. Whoever it was, Buffy would want to kill the Doctor for doing it. Buffy still didn't understand exactly what was going on, but she was sure of one thing.

The Doctor had landed exactly where and when he'd wanted.

* * *

"Why'd you have to knock out Donna?" Dawn asked. "I liked Donna."

"I don't think she knows anything," said Buffy, tying a long, thick rope around the Doctor's arms and torso. "But she'll untie the Doctor. And he needs to stay tied up."

"Because?" asked Dawn.

"Because he said he was going to murder one of my friends," said Buffy.

"And you believed him?"

"When he talks like that, I believe him," said Buffy. "Whatever this Excalibur thing is he's looking for, it's bad. I'm talking seriously bad. Worse than killing off two-thirds of the world bad."

"And you're stopping him from getting rid of it?" asked Dawn.

"I'm stopping him from going crazy and killing someone he shouldn't!" Buffy snapped. "He's not thinking straight! He…" The rope shook in Buffy's hands, as she looked at the Doctor's unconscious face. "He wouldn't do that."

"I still don't get why Donna has to be tied up," Dawn muttered. "She's human. She can't do anything."

"If you'd met any of the Doctor's other companions, you'd know that's not true," said Buffy. "I've seen Martha talk a vampire out of killing her. Amy managed to get rid of that super-evil slime demon thing a few months ago. Jack can die a thousand deaths and still manage to come back to life. And, if you believe the Doctor, Rose turned an entire fleet of Daleks to dust with her mind. Trust me. The Doctor's companions aren't as helpless as you'd think."

Buffy tied the knot on the rope that bound the Doctor's arms and torso, shifting him so that he lay in the center of the bed. Dawn thought she was being incredibly diplomatic by _not_ pointing out to Buffy that she was tying up the guy she was head-over-heels in love with in her bedroom. On her bed.

"You tied that way too loose," Dawn pointed out, instead. "He's going to get free."

"Just tie up Donna, okay?" Buffy snapped.

Dawn flinched back at Buffy's sudden anger. She watched as Buffy took a deep breath, as if preparing herself to do something painful, then yanked on the ropes. The Doctor gasped for breath. Buffy's eyes widened, and she quickly loosened the ropes a little, before tying the knot again. She looked at the Doctor's unconscious face, and took a few deep breaths, trying to get herself together. She shook her head, grabbed the other bit of rope that she had gotten out of the basement, and started tying his legs together.

Dawn, meanwhile, began to secure Donna.

"Tie her to the chair," Buffy instructed, pushing a desk chair over to Dawn.

"You're not tying the Doctor to a chair," said Dawn. "You're just kind of putting ropes around him."

"Just do it!" Buffy snapped.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Pushy much?"

Dawn started retying the ropes, so that they circled around and through the back of the chair. It was only when she realized that Buffy hadn't answered or even acknowledged she'd said anything that Dawn thought maybe there was something really, really wrong. She looked up at Buffy, who had stopped, just staring ahead, at nothing, rope still in hand.

"I said, pushy much?" Dawn repeated, trying not to let the fear come through into her voice.

"I heard," said Buffy.

Dawn frowned. "Buffy, you can stop him, right?" she asked. "I mean, you're the Slayer, and he's just some… alien."

"It's not that," said Buffy. "I can stop him. It's just… how that's the issue."

"Well, you're going to tie him up," said Dawn, "and then you and I are going to go out and find Excalibur, and—"

"You're not coming," said Buffy.

"Why not?" asked Dawn, tying the final rope around Donna, and knotting it off.

"Because I think he might be right," said Buffy. She squeezed her eyes shut. "And in the end, I'm the Slayer. It's my job. Not his."

Dawn's eyes grew wide, as she realized what Buffy was saying. "Hang on," she said. "You're saying that you are going to find Excalibur first, and… kill whoever has it? Even if it's one of your friends?"

"I'm going to find another way," Buffy insisted. "One that allows everyone to live. But if I can't, if there's no other alternative…." She took a deep breath. "I'm the Slayer. It's what I have to do."

"You're prepared to kill Willow, or Xander, or Tara, or Giles, or—"

"It's not them," said Buffy. "I know who has Excalibur. There's only one person it could be." She gave a humorless laugh. "And I was so stupid not to see it before."

"Who?" asked Dawn.

Buffy looked over her shoulder at her sister. "It's Riley," she said.

* * *

Dawn's eyes widened. "Your boyfriend?"

"It has to be," said Buffy, as she tied off the knot of the rope around the Doctor's legs. "All the pieces fit. The way Riley's been acting recently — all weird and erratic and stuff. The way he keeps looking at me, like there's something he wants to tell me but just can't. And the way he always wants to impress me. If he got his hands on some big powerful weapon, something that could make him superman without my knowing about it, he'd do it. In a heartbeat. And… this Doctor's young enough that I don't think he's met Riley, yet." She shook her head. "The Doctor told me — the day he met Riley, Riley tried to kill him. Now I know why."

"Uh, yeah," said Dawn. "Because Riley is totally jealous. Buffy, are you blind?"

"Riley's the one friend I have that I wouldn't be able to forgive the Doctor for killing," said Buffy. "Ever. And he knows it. And Riley would never hand Excalibur over to the Doctor, not in a million billion years. Maybe… if I'm lucky, maybe Riley will hand it over to me."

"I thought you said you didn't know what it looked like," Dawn pointed out.

"I don't," said Buffy. "But I called Giles, and he's finding out everything he can about Excalibur." She felt in the Doctor's coat pockets, and frowned. "No sonic," she muttered. "He must have hidden it somewhere on him." She started patting him down, trying to find any hidden devices he might have on him.

Dawn couldn't help but notice that Buffy's hands lingered a little too long, when she was searching the Doctor. And she seemed to enjoy it just a little too much when she had to pat down more sensitive areas.

"And you say you're just friends," said Dawn.

"If he has the sonic on him when I leave, he'll be out of here in five seconds," said Buffy. She swore. "I can't find it." Then her eyes fell on the wooden chest by her bed, and she had a sudden brainwave idea. "Wood," she realized. "It doesn't work on wood." She picked him up, and started dragging him out the door. "Dawn, grab Donna. We're taking them to the basement."

"To the… you just made me tie her to the chair in here!" Dawn said.

"I changed my mind!" Buffy replied, as she slipped out the door with the Doctor.

Dawn, after a lot of untying and a large amount of dragging, managed to get Donna partially out of the room. Buffy ran up to grab Donna, and nearly sprinted with her back to the basement. Dawn decided that Buffy did way too much running. She huffed as she trudged down the two flights of stairs, and into the basement.

The Doctor was already down there, bound and lying on the floor — and still not secured to a chair, Dawn noted, just lying there. Buffy had placed Donna on a chair, but was now sitting beside the Doctor, again. Yep. Doctor lying down, bound and helpless, Buffy stroking her hand through his hair — she was definitely not at all in love with him.

"You know, I can see why Riley has no reason at all to be jealous," Dawn said.

Buffy sprang to her feet, stepping away from the Doctor. Her face went red, and she shifted, guiltily. Dawn had a feeling she wasn't supposed to have seen what she'd just seen. Buffy forced her face to go back to normal, then looked up at Dawn. "Did you bring the rope?"

Dawn climbed down the stairs and handed Buffy the rope. Buffy looped the rope around Donna and the chair, tying her hands and feet together, hastily.

"Admit it," said Dawn. "The only reason you didn't just tie them up here in the first place was because you loved the idea of tying up the Doctor in your bedroom."

"I'm just trying to save Riley's life," said Buffy, not even looking at her sister. "That's all."

Uh-huh. Sure.

"Buffy, let me summarize the situation, here," said Dawn. "You tied up the Doctor, the guy you're totally in love with even though you won't admit it. In your bedroom. On your bed. To stop him murdering your boyfriend. And you know it's your boyfriend he's out to murder, because your boyfriend tries to kill the Doctor the day the Doctor meets him. A meeting that, apparently, has everything to do with a magical sword, and nothing to do with the fact that it's the Doctor you fantasize about tying up in the bedroom, and not Riley."

"Better summary," said Buffy. "There's something really bad out there that's going to destroy the universe. The Doctor's going to kill the person who has it, and I have to make sure that I find it before the Doctor does, or before the universe goes boom." She finished securing Donna, and got up.

"Face it, Buffy," said Dawn. "Soap operas have nothing on your life."

"Dawn," said Buffy, with a sigh. "Shut up."

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me!" Donna shouted, as she struggled against the ropes. She looked over at the Doctor, who was just staring straight ahead, not doing anything clever or spacemanny. "Oi! This is your fault, isn't it?"

The Doctor glanced back at Donna, but said nothing.

"What'd you do?" Donna demanded. "Tell her all your plans?"

"I told her I was sorry," the Doctor replied. "She worked it out."

Donna stopped struggling. Her only argument to convince the Doctor not to go through with this had been the fact that Dawn and Buffy didn't know. If Buffy had worked it out, Donna wasn't sure she had anything else that would stop the Doctor.

"How much?" she asked, quietly.

"Not who," said the Doctor. "At least, not yet."

Donna could see, from the dark expression on the Doctor's face, that he hadn't changed his mind about this. The ropes were no obstacle — he'd get free eventually. And Donna didn't want to know what would happen if he got free. She didn't want to think about it.

"Doctor, you can't," she pleaded. "She's an innocent human girl."

"She isn't real."

"She's as bloomin' real as you or me," Donna insisted. "Oi! Listen to me, Sunshine. I don't know what you consider real on planet Time Lord, but here on planet Earth, any human being, even one who's actually a mystical sword in disguise, is a real human being."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"I've been talking to her," Donna insisted. "She's shown me her diaries dating all the way back to when she was seven. She's a real person. She has real dreams, real hopes, real thoughts, real fears. She even has a secret crush. How can you say she isn't real?"

"You can't see it, Donna," said the Doctor, softly. "What she really is. I can."

Donna struggled against her restraints again, but they didn't give. "You know what I think?" Donna asked. "I think you don't want to admit she's real. Because if you ever admitted she was real, I don't think you could ever go through with it."

The Doctor wouldn't meet Donna's eyes. "I've done it before."

Donna didn't think she wanted to know that. "When?"

The Doctor didn't answer.

"Doctor," said Donna. "Think about this. So she's a sword. She doesn't know she's a sword. She doesn't look like a sword. She doesn't act like a sword. So what makes her a sword?"

The Doctor said nothing, but Donna thought she could see the slightest bit of hesitation. He was trying to talk himself into doing it. Donna was sure of that. The Doctor might be terrifying, at times, and he might let terrible historical events happen, even when they meant the death of an entire city, but that didn't mean he felt good about it. She had to play up every doubt he had, or he'd go through with it. And Donna couldn't let him go through with it.

"No one needs to find out," Donna continued. "And maybe we can't take her with us, but we could drop by and check on her. We could make it work."

The Doctor said nothing.

"Doctor—" Donna started, but the Doctor shushed her. He seemed to be listening. Donna listened, too, and could hear muffled talking from upstairs.

"They're talking about Excalibur," said the Doctor, in a quiet voice. "Trying to work out what it is."

"Is that bad?" asked Donna.

"If Elizabeth's clever enough to work it out." The Doctor began squirming around in his bonds, like a writhing seal.

"And is she?" asked Donna.

"Oh, yes."

* * *

"Well," said Giles, taking off his glasses. "From what I've discovered, it appears Excalibur was last seen in England. We might be able to trace it from there."

They were sitting around in the dining room of Buffy's house, Giles surrounded by a large stack of books he'd taken over, all to do with King Arthur and Excalibur. Buffy had nailed wooden boards in front of the basement door and windows, and she was fairly certain that would keep the Doctor contained. Assuming her mother didn't kill her for doing it.

"Yeah, if you're proposing a séance with King Arthur, I'm pretty sure that's not going to work," said Buffy. "That was, like, a bazillion years ago, Giles. Excalibur could be anywhere, now."

"Only three," Giles corrected.

"Three what?"

"Years," said Giles, sliding his glasses back onto his face. "Since Excalibur was unearthed, I mean. Somewhere outside of Carbury, it seems, by an archaeologist named Peter Warmsly. It all happened round about the time that the Master was trying to open the Hellmouth, here, so I was a little preoccupied, but it does seem this Excalibur nearly destroyed the world."

"Yeah, the Doctor mentioned that, right?" said Dawn. "Like, nuclear bombs and stuff. I remember."

"Dawn," Buffy sighed, "get out of here."

"What?" said Dawn. "I'm trying to be helpful."

"No, she's quite right," Giles agreed, flipping through one of the books, and then displaying its contents to Buffy. "It appears that Morgan La Fey, using Excalibur, managed to summon a terrible demon known only as 'the Destroyer', and nearly destroyed the world with a nuclear warhead. She was stopped by her arch-nemesis, Merlin, who disappeared without a trace shortly thereafter."

"Until he showed up here, and Buffy decided to tie him up on her bed," said Dawn.

Buffy ignored her. "Okay, so what did Excalibur look like? I mean, this picture, here — it looks like a sword."

"Well, it's said this particular relic was actually from another reality," said Giles. "And much speculation has been made that there is a matching relic originating in this reality. One which performs the same function, but takes on a different shape. That is probably the item you're looking for."

"And that function would be…?" asked Buffy.

Giles opened another book, and thumbed through the pages. "Well, I believe that Excalibur wasn't actually a sword," he said. "It looked like a sword, but it served some other purpose."

"Yeah, got that," said Buffy. "It's some super-weapon, or something, and it can blow up the universe. I'm just trying to work out how."

"Actually, I'm not certain you're correct about that," said Giles. He flipped to the page he wanted. "See, here, in Peter Warmsly's notes. 'It was at this point that the UNIT advisor, whom I shall refer to in this text simply as Merlin, explained to us that Excalibur was not really a sword at all, but a key.'"

Buffy and Dawn looked at one another, both lost. Buffy turned to Giles.

"Huh?" she asked.

"It appears that what you're looking for is not a weapon," said Giles. "It's a key."

"A key?" asked Buffy. "You mean, this thing that's made the Doctor turn from hard-core-pacifist to potential-murderer is a _key_?"

"It could be a really deadly key," Dawn offered.

"It's a key!" Buffy said. "Keys aren't deadly! Keys are just… keys! They aren't even dangerous!"

"I'd have to point out," said Giles, "that a key is only as dangerous as the thing it's keeping locked up."

And the Doctor had a ton of bad things he'd probably want to lock up. A huge, huge number of things. She thought she remembered… something… a spark of conversation from way back when she first met the Doctor... a conversation that had mentioned something important about a key, but when she tried to grasp the memory, it was fuzzy. Unobtainable. Okay, that was weird. Maybe the Doctor hadn't mentioned anything about a key, and Buffy was just misremembering.

"Okay, first it's tying to the bed, now we've got keys and locks and stuff," said Dawn. "I don't know what kind of bondage thing you guys have going on, but if the next ancient artifact the Doctor hunts down winds up being something even more kinky, I'm pretty sure you should take that as a sign."

"Dawn, shut up," said Buffy. To Giles: "This Excalibur-equivalent artifact — does it, like, attach itself to someone, or something? Get inside their heads and manipulate their thoughts? Or does it bind with their skin so you can't get it off? Or — oh, does it turn them into a demon? Steal their souls and stuff?"

"Not that I'm aware of," said Giles. "Excalibur itself didn't do anything of the sort. Why?"

"The Doctor wouldn't say he was going to kill someone unless there was absolutely no other way," said Buffy. "The kind of artifact you've described — the Doctor would just take it and leave. No killing involved at all. If he's talking about killing people, there has to be something more to it than that."

Besides which, if Excalibur turned its victims into something nonhuman, it meant Buffy could kill them. And if she needed to kill someone, she really, really wanted them to be a demon. She wasn't sure she could go through with it, if they were human.

"Well, I can certainly look into it," said Giles. "If you're sure that there's some other aspect to this artifact that we've overlooked."

"I'm sure," said Buffy.

"In the meantime, if this Excalibur artifact does have some sort of hold over its victims, it's essential that we keep an eye on all potential victims at all times," said Giles. "They might not even know that they are under its influence."

"Plus, the Doctor's going to show up wanting to kill them," said Dawn.

"Have you informed Riley of the situation, yet?" Giles asked Buffy.

"I called him up," said Buffy. "He insists that he hasn't picked up any weird objects or anything recently. But, I mean, if there's some sort of mind control thing going on, then he wouldn't tell me, anyways, would he?"

"And Riley certainly has been acting rather oddly of late," Giles agreed. "I've noticed that as well. Did you warn him about the Doctor?"

"I told him to be careful that someone might be out to kill him," said Buffy. "I didn't say who it was."

"So… you've just made the guy we know is going to try to kill the Doctor at some point in the near future supremely paranoid?" Dawn asked. She rolled her eyes. "Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Riley isn't going to try to kill the Doctor," Buffy insisted. "He doesn't even know the Doctor is the one trying to kill him."

"I bet he works it out," Dawn muttered.

"Giles, is there any way we could actually detect this sword-key-thing?" asked Buffy, ignoring Dawn. "Even without knowing what it looks like?"

"I don't know," said Giles. He closed the books, and began putting them back into the bag he'd brought over. "I believe some more research is in order. In the meantime, Buffy, I'd stay close to Riley. Make certain he doesn't do anything foolish, and try to discover if there is some other-worldly power influencing him."

"And… what about the two hostages tied up in our basement?" Dawn asked.

There was the sudden crash of a wooden board thudding against the floor. Buffy, Giles, and Dawn all snapped their heads around to the door leading to the basement. A pile of nails lay on the floor before the door, and the right side of the board had been completely unhooked from the wall.

"I think," said Buffy, as the entire board crashed to the floor, "they're not tied up anymore."

* * *

The Doctor produced the sonic screwdriver, seemingly out of thin air, and buzzed it against the ropes binding him. The ropes split apart, and in only a matter of seconds, the Doctor was free. He quickly freed Donna, then ran up to the top of the steps.

"Where are you going?" Donna demanded.

"Escape, Donna," he said, buzzing the sonic at the lock of the door. "No use staying down here. Universe to save and all that."

"By killing an innocent child?" Donna asked.

"She isn't real," said the Doctor. "Everything she is, everything she was, her entire life to this point — it's all just an illusion. A very complex and convincing illusion, but still just an illusion."

"You don't believe that," said Donna.

The Doctor paused in his work, for just a second. Then, he set his jaw, and buzzed the sonic against the door handle again. He pushed at the door, but it didn't budge. "Barricade? Deadlock seal?" muttered the Doctor, pushing again.

"Board nailed across the outside?" Donna proposed. She nodded over at the boarded-up windows surrounding them.

The Doctor looked around, examining the windows, carefully. "Wood." He shoved the sonic into his pocket, and ran a hand through his hair. "Ooh, she's good. Very, very good."

"Doctor!" Donna snapped at him. "What is going on?"

The Doctor looked down at her. "We're locked in a basement," he said. "While upstairs, Elizabeth is trying to work out—"

"Not that," said Donna. "With Dawn. You're never like this! You don't kill people."

"Dawn is not a person," said the Doctor, without any emotion in his voice. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Donna.

"She bloomin' well is!" Donna snapped. "Look, what is she, exactly? You said she was some sort of segment."

The Doctor's eyes fell on a tool cabinet at the bottom of the stairs, and his face lit up. "Aha!" he cried, as he raced down towards it.

"Doctor!" Donna shouted.

"In a minute, Donna, I'm busy," said the Doctor, as he rifled through the cabinet.

Yeah, busy. Donna could see right through that one. Spaceman wasn't answering her because he didn't want to. Because he didn't want to think about what he was about to do, since — Donna was guessing — the more he thought about it, the harder it would be for him to do it. Well, good. Then Donna had to get him to think about it as much as possible.

Donna ran to the tool cabinet, and got as much in his face as she could. "Oi!" she said. "Just tell me what Dawn is!"

The Doctor glanced up at her. "Dangerous," he said.

"How?" Donna demanded. "How's she going to destroy the universe? What's this energy whatsit you keep going on about?"

"You don't need to know that," said the Doctor, as he returned to rifling through the tool cabinet.

"Says who?" Donna insisted.

"Says me."

The Doctor brought out a hammer and a bag of nails, then raced back up the stairs. He started knocking against the wooden door and the wall beside it, trying to detect the dimensions of the board and where it was attached to the wall.

"Well, I say I do!" Donna said. "Oi! Are you listening to me, Spaceman?"

But the answer to that was obviously no, as the Doctor fished the sonic out of his pocket, and buzzed it around the wall and door. He beamed.

"There we go!" he said, as he took out a nail, and started hammering it into the wall.

Donna knew she'd have to do better than that. She needed to find something that really got to the Doctor, something that would get past his denial.

"Doctor!" she said.

"Hmm?" asked the Doctor, continuing with whatever it was he was doing. A small tink sound rung through the air, and the Doctor switched his hammering to another spot.

"Just… think about this. About your friend?" Donna called. "Buffy. Elizabeth. Whatever you call her. She remembers Dawn."

"They're not real memories," said the Doctor, hammering. "They're implanted."

Tink!

"But that doesn't change how she feels!" Donna took a step forwards, up the stairs. "Doctor," she continued, in a quiet, gentle voice, "if you kill Dawn, you'll be killing your friend's sister."

The Doctor froze.

For a few moments, he didn't speak, didn't move, barely even breathed. Then he glanced back at Donna, his eyes burning with regret and pain. "I know," he said. With a slow, almost weary movement, the Doctor turned back, and resumed his hammering.

Donna couldn't speak. He knew. That Dawn was real, what her death would mean to Buffy, what that death would do to him. The Doctor knew exactly what he was doing, exactly what it meant. And he was going through with it, anyways.

A third soft tink of metal on the other side of the door. Like the drop of a nail. No, wait, it _was_ the drop of a nail. So that was what the Doctor was doing! He was nailing on his side of the wall, exactly where each of the nails was securing the board to the other side of the wall. As he hammered his own nail in deeper, he pushed the nail on the other side out of place, so that it dropped onto the floor.

Half the board crashed to the ground, and the Doctor quickly pushed in the final nail, so that the other half crashed down and the door flew open.

The Doctor rushed out of the basement.

Donna clambered up the steps towards the door, as fast as she could. She might not be able to talk Spaceman out of doing it. And she might not be a bloody Time Lord. But Donna Noble was going to save Dawn Summers, one way or another.

Because Donna knew that she was right.

* * *

Buffy prepared herself, as she watched the Doctor come out of the basement. She didn't have any weapons on her — didn't want any, to be honest — but she needed to make sure the Doctor didn't get out of the house. He wasn't killing Riley. She wouldn't let him. She'd find a way to get this Excalibur thing away from Riley herself, or…

Buffy didn't want to think about what she'd have to do if the Doctor was right.

Buffy crouched down, preparing herself for a fight. "Doctor," she said. "Stop, and listen to me. I can find out where this Excalibur is myself, I can make sure that no one has to die. I can do this another way."

"Oi, you listen to her, Spaceman!" Donna shouted, as she emerged from the basement.

The Doctor ignored Donna. He just met Buffy's eyes with his own. His eyes had always looked so sad, so terribly alone and so very soulful. Now, they were lined with something else. Something new. Something that Buffy hadn't seen before. A cold determination, a fixed intensity.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I am so, so sorry. You can't. There isn't any other way."

"Why?" Buffy asked. "What's happening? What are you so afraid of?"

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment, just looking at her. Staring at her. As if trying to come to terms with the implications of everything he was about to do. Then he blinked, and every emotion in his eyes faded back into that cold determination. "I'm sorry," he said, again. He broke away from her gaze, and turned to go.

Buffy jumped out at him, grabbing his trench coat and dragging him back from the door. He wriggled, and managed to extract himself from his coat.

She tried to knock him out again, but he dodged out of the way too quickly, this time, and she struck only air.

He ran towards the door, but she kicked out and caught him in the back, making him stumble and fall across the floor. She tried to catch him, but he rolled out of the way. Was he trying to make her hurt him? She was doing everything in her power not to actually cause him any physical harm — but considering her fighting techniques were all centered around causing physical harm, that was really difficult to do.

He started to get up, and Buffy charged at him, trying to pin him in place. He squirmed in her grip, twisting her own strength back against her, until Buffy, in a fit of rage, threw him over her shoulder so that he thunked, back down, onto the wood floor.

"Ow," he said.

"Stop fighting me!" Buffy shouted. "If you say that someone has to die to save the universe, I believe you. But _you_ shouldn't be the one to kill them!"

"I have to," said the Doctor, sitting up. "There isn't anyone else."

Buffy knelt down beside him. "There's me."

The Doctor's eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. Buffy thought she could see a flash of fear in his eyes, a flash of horror. "No."

"Just tell me what this thing is that we're looking for," said Buffy. "This Excalibur." She took his hands in her own. "Please. Explain it to me. What is it? What does it do? How can we stop it?"

The Doctor gripped her hands more tightly. "There is no we," he said. "Just me."

"I'm not letting you do this alone," said Buffy. "I know you're doing the right thing. I trust you. But you've got too much death on your conscience. Let me help you."

"No," the Doctor said. "You… no, just, no. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" asked Buffy. "Explain."

The Doctor said nothing.

"Doctor," said Buffy, very softly. "Please trust me. I want to help you. I know you don't really want to kill anyone; I know you're only doing it because you think it's the only way to save the universe. I understand that. But I also know you sometimes get upset enough that you overlook things. If you tell me what's going on, maybe we can work out a better way. Maybe we can find a way that no one has to die. Don't you want that?"

She could see in the Doctor's eyes that he did. Oh, he so wanted that. The cold determination dripped away from him, and Buffy thought, for a second, that she was getting through to him.

"It's…. I mean, the…. During the War…. It's more sort of…" the Doctor faltered. Then he sagged. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" asked Buffy.

"Because if I tell you, you'll die," said the Doctor. "That's what always happens. Susan. Romana. Amy and Zara. Every person who's ever known about it was murdered, brutally murdered. Everyone except for me."

"Okay. Fine, then. How about I tell you?" said Buffy. "You're trying to find a key. Either because the key itself is dangerous, or you're scared the locked-up thing is going to get out. I'm guessing… this key's some artifact from the Time War, something that could tear the universe apart — or worse. You've worked out that someone I'm very, very close to has it, and you think the only way to get rid of this key is to kill… that person. Whoever it is." Buffy didn't want the Doctor to know she'd already worked out who it was. "You obviously don't actually want to kill anyone, and that's what's really freaking you out. You're worried about what'll happen if I stop you, and you're scared to death about what you'll do if I don't."

The Doctor almost stopped breathing at her words. The stony, terrible look settled back on his face, and his eyes reverted back to that cold determination. He yanked his hands away from her.

"Stop looking for answers," he commanded, trying to get to his feet again. "Stop trying to get yourself killed. And stop trusting me to do the right thing. Because I've rarely done anything nearly as wrong as what I'm about to do."

"Then don't do it!" Buffy shouted, grabbing his arms, and forcing him back onto the ground. "You're the Doctor. I'm the Slayer. I'm the one that kills stuff. You're the one that yells at me for killing stuff. So stop taking over my job!"

"I've killed before," said the Doctor. "For this thing. They wanted it, during the War, and I couldn't let them find it. I let two-thirds of this world die. I let families get wiped from time — not just killed, but never born in the first place. I let entire timelines get crushed. And I'd do it again — all of it, any of it — to make sure this thing doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"That's not the same as killing people yourself," Buffy said.

"I killed Susan," said the Doctor. "Shot her right between the eyes, as she watched. I'll never forgive myself for that. But that's how much I've sacrificed for this thing."

"Who's Susan?" asked Buffy.

"My granddaughter."

Buffy's breath caught in her throat.

"Stop trusting me," the Doctor said. "Because this is worse than you could possibly imagine. Far, far worse. And there isn't any rule I wouldn't break to make sure it stays out of the wrong hands."

"But if Excalibur's a key, and everyone who knows about it is dead, then no one will ever use it!" Buffy said. "No one here has to die, Doctor! And even if someone does work out about Excalibur, I'm the Slayer. I'll be able to stop them."

"It's inherently unstable," the Doctor said. "Even a small energy fluctuation could create cracks in the Lock. It shouldn't even…" He trailed off, his face turning into a curious frown. "Wait a tic. Donna's been awfully quiet, recently."

Buffy stood up. "So has Dawn." She started racing around the house, looking for Dawn and Giles, but they were nowhere to be found.

The Doctor ran to the front door, and smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Unlocked," he said. "Brilliant, Donna, bloody brilliant! The sun's about to set, the monsters are about to come out, perfect time to do a runner!"

"Let me guess," said Buffy. "You forgot to tell Donna that this particular town is right on top of a Hellmouth?"

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "It might have slipped my mind."

Buffy could work out exactly what had happened. Donna and Dawn had run off, probably to avoid the fighting. Dawn, always the little adventurer, wouldn't mind the danger, Donna wouldn't know about it, and Giles probably ran after them, shouting at them to stop.

The Doctor shrugged back on his trench coat (which Buffy hadn't seen him pick up), and began running out the door. Buffy chased after him. While Donna was in danger, the Doctor would be too worried about rescuing her to deal with any of the rest of it. That was Buffy's saving grace. But the moment Donna was out of danger, the Doctor would go back to trying to kill Riley. And Buffy wouldn't let the Doctor kill Riley.

They raced down the street, the Doctor flashing around his sonic, trying to detect something. He muttered something under his breath that didn't sound like English, then put the sonic away, licked his finger, and stuck it in the air. He made a face.

"It's no good!" he complained. "Too many psionics in the air. Can't get a good trace."

"I can," said Buffy. She pointed at where Giles had drawn a little x in the dirt of the front yard beside them. She could see another one in the distance. She ran forwards, and kept seeing more and more little x's. Thank you, Giles! She turned back.

And froze.

Because the Doctor was gone.

* * *

Giles and Donna were unconscious on the ground, on the sidewalk of a street some ways away. She shook Giles, and managed to get him up. Donna was still out.

"Buffy," said Giles, adjusting his glasses.

"Hey," said Buffy. "Little problem. The Doctor's off to kill Riley, and I still have to find Dawn. You wouldn't happen to know where Dawn is, right?"

Giles rubbed his head, and blinked, trying to get his wits about him. "There was… some sort of demon, as I recall," he said. "Yes, that's right. A demon. Tall, muscular, rather large wings. I believe it recognized Dawn and made off with her."

"And you just let it?" asked Buffy.

"I didn't have much say in the matter," said Giles. "I tried to get Dawn to safety, whilst Donna distracted the demon, but as you can see, I didn't get terribly far." He glanced over at Donna, and got to his feet. "We'd better make certain she's all right. She was rather… enthusiastic in her distraction."

"Don't tell me she tried to attack it," said Buffy.

"No," said Giles. "No. She seemed much more interested in… shouting at it. Quite loudly, in fact. I assume that's how you discovered us."

"I followed your x's," said Buffy.

Giles frowned. "Sorry, you followed my what?"

Buffy faltered. She was starting to get a very bad feeling about this. "You know, the little x's on the ground that told me where you were, and… you didn't make any little x's, did you?"

"No," Giles agreed.

Oh, yeah. That was bad. A demon that had specifically targeted her sister, and made sure that Buffy knew where to find Giles and Donna — the only two people who could tell her what had happened. That looked like some demon trying to give Buffy a sign or a message. The message probably being along the lines of: _I own this town, and you can't stop me._

This was all she needed, with the Doctor still out hunting for Riley. If the Doctor hadn't found Donna, yet, that meant… maybe he wasn't looking for Donna. Maybe he'd gone straight to Riley. Buffy shook Donna, but she wouldn't respond. Buffy checked her pulse. Still alive. Good.

"I believe she was hit rather harder than myself," said Giles. "The demon did seem quite annoyed by her."

Okay, okay. Buffy needed three people — one for Riley, one for Donna, and one for Dawn. And she had two — herself and Giles. Which meant… well, Buffy guessed that meant Riley was on his own, for now.

"Giles," said Buffy, "get Donna back to the house, and make sure she's okay. Then call Riley and tell him to find someplace safe and undetectable, and hide until I can get to him. In the meantime, I'm going after Dawn. Any idea where this demon thing took her?"

"No," Giles confessed.

Great. Even better. Wild goose chase. Buffy started to run, and hoped she'd find some sign to lead her to Dawn, before Dawn wound up in even more trouble.

* * *

It had come as a bit of a shock to the Doctor, when he realized he could see it. The energy. When he realized that he was far enough outside of reality that he could detect the segments to the Key to Time himself, without the use of a tracer. Born on a planet that never existed, in a time that had been folded away, in a part of the universe that had always been empty space… just remembering that, as he looked at Dawn, remembering that he was alone, so very alone…

It felt like losing Gallifrey all over again.

Except he wasn't. That was the problem. Because with Dawn around, the Key was unstable. The Lock could crack. Gallifrey could return.

The Doctor couldn't allow that.

But then Donna — brave, wonderful, brilliant, missing-the-bigger-picture Donna — had decided to take matters into her own hands, and get Dawn out of the house before the Doctor could do anything to her. The problem was, the Doctor hadn't been planning to do anything to Dawn inside the house. He'd been planning to disperse the energy that comprised Dawn's cellular structure from within his TARDIS. Now that Dawn was somewhere out in the open, the Doctor had to make sure that he found her, first, just to make sure the nasty that had gotten her hadn't picked up on what she really was.

And the Doctor knew a nasty had gotten her. He'd known the moment he saw those x's. Donna wouldn't have left Buffy a trail to follow — she didn't want the Doctor to follow them. If Giles had been the one to leave those little marks, he would never have kept up with Donna and Dawn, who were probably running. Which left only one other option — some nasty had been trying to lead Buffy away, so he could kidnap Dawn.

Which was only confirmed by the fact that the Doctor could vaguely sense the time energy that was Dawn Summers coming from a different direction than the x's.

So the Doctor ran off, following his own instincts and the very slight tingling sense in his head that he knew meant Dawn was around. It was difficult, but he was quite clever, and he shortly found himself at the mouth of a very large and normally very dark cave.

With a series of lit candles lining the passage inside.

The Doctor crept forward, down the cave, moving as silently as he could. A part of his brain kept screaming at him to think about what he was going to do when he found Dawn, screaming at him that he couldn't possibly go through with it. Most of the rest of his brain was occupied with blocking out the screaming part. He couldn't help but realize, with a spark of hope so disgusting it reviled him, that perhaps this demon would finish the job for him.

He hated himself for thinking that.

He could hear voices, from some ways ahead of him, down the twisting passageway. He paused, though, as he noticed the Trifaldoreign interspatial warp control box lying nearby on the ground. Most people probably wouldn't know what it was. In fact, it looked rather like a great big hunk of rock. The Doctor knew better.

Trifaldoreigns. Ah, yes, that made sense. The Doctor knew the Trifaldoreigns. Big bossy interdimensional sort, with horns and teeth and wings and the works. The sort that Buffy would probably call 'Random Demon-Looking-Thing Number One', if she were here (don't think about her, she's going to despise you after this is over). Except they usually were less keen on the random acts of brutality and more keen on massive planetary invasion. Specifically the primitive planets that hadn't made interstellar contact, yet, and particularly the ones with sentient creatures the Trifaldoreigns could feed on.

The Doctor tried to drag up the bits of his memory about Trifaldoreigns. Ah, that was right — they didn't come all at once, did they? They didn't have enough power to create a huge portal without using an interspatial warp conduit on both sides. The scout would go first, identify the individuals that the Trifaldoreigns would consider the biggest threat — their future enemies — then annihilate their enemies' family members and leave their corpses to be discovered. The discovery of these corpses would lure the enemies to the warp conduit. The moment the enemies arrived, the Trifaldoreign scout would activate the warp conduit, and the entire Trifaldoreign army would march in and stomp their enemies out.

Seems Buffy had been identified as enemy number one.

The Doctor easily took apart the control box for the warp conduit, pocketing a few essential pieces so that there would be no way the army could get to Earth. Well, that was the invasion taken care of, then. One Trifaldoreign left, but the Doctor could take care of him later.

After the Trifaldoreign had finished its first objective.

The Doctor continued down the cave, sneaking through the twisting passageways, until he could hear the voices coming through far more clearly. He pressed himself against the wall of the cave, lurking in the shadows. Edging forwards, the Doctor peered around a curve in the passageway. There, he could see Dawn, chained to the wall, the temporal energy rippling around her in a steady green glow. The Trifaldoreign scout was pacing the room with great, lumbering footsteps, his claws glinting in the candlelight. He'd chained up Dawn, set up a way for Buffy to discover what had happened. Which meant the next step was coming soon. The Trifaldoreign was going to kill Dawn.

And the Doctor was going to let him.

(He hated himself so much sometimes.)

The Trifaldoreign scout paced the room in front of Dawn, examining her carefully, clinically. Trying to use her to identify weaknesses in the human race, the Doctor assumed. The Trifaldoreign would probably tear Dawn's body apart, trying to examine all the inner workings and figure out what made humans tick.

(She isn't real. She's just energy. All her memories are false, implanted. None of the things she remembers ever really happened—

None of the things he remembers really happened, either—

No! That doesn't matter. Susan was a real person. She died for the Key. Romana was a real person. She died for the Key. All those children Rassilon had butchered were real, too, and they had died for the Key. What was one more? What was one more?)

It hurt too much to think about.

"You better let me go," Dawn shouted at the Trifaldoreign scout. "Because I've got an older sister who's going to kick your butt."

"The Slayer," said the Trifaldoreign. "I know. Your corpse will be a fine gift to her from my people."

"Yeah? Well, you say that now, but Buffy's going to come save me!" Dawn snapped. "She always does."

"No one's coming," said the Trifaldoreign. "No one even knows where you are." The Trifaldoreign drew up a long sword from the scabbard along his belt, and put its edge against Dawn's throat. "Your little Slayer isn't going to rescue you this time."

Your Little Slayer.

Those words.

Racing through the Doctor's body like an electric shock, burning inside of him like the ash from a hundred thousand volcanoes all at once. Your Little Slayer. Searing through his mind. Your Little Slayer. Tearing at his hearts.

_you killed them all Doctor you killed them you watched them die and you didn't even care you didn't save a single one..._

Another Elizabeth. Another timeline. He remembered. Her blazing blue eyes, the way her blond hair tumbled across her cheek as she glared at him, the hatred etched into every feature of her face.

(He'd destroyed her, once.)

_evil heartless soulless inhuman tearing me apart from the inside out just Your Little Slayer that's all I ever was to you just Your Little Slayer that you could use and then destroy_

(He had destroyed her, so long ago.)

The pain and anger and desperation in her voice, the way every word struck at him, harder than any physical blow.

(Could he do it, now?)

_hate you hate you wish I'd never met you Doctor wish you were never born!_

(Could he do it again?)

The Doctor didn't realize he was moving. He didn't realize he was speaking. But the next thing he knew, he'd strolled up to the Trifaldoreign scout, hands in his pockets, an easy smile on his face.

"Well," he said, "hardly fair to expect her to solve all your problems. Busy girl and all that. Thought I'd give her the night off."

The Trifaldoreign hissed, and in one swift movement, he removed the sword from Dawn's neck to point at the Doctor.

"Oi, watch it," said the Doctor, raising his hands in the air. "You'll poke someone's eye out with that."

"Who are you?" the Trifaldoreign demanded.

"I'm the Doctor," said the Doctor. "Hello!"

"Are you the ruler of this world?" asked the Trifaldoreign, inching the sword closer.

"Well, not exactly," said the Doctor. "In fact, not at all. Although, I am rather attached to it. Better to call me… Earth's champion. That has a bit of a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He winked at Dawn.

"Your name, puny human," the Trifaldoreign demanded. "Speak, or I shall skewer you where you stand. I have an army waiting to invade this world, and nothing you can do will stop me!"

"Ah, actually, no name, and not human," the Doctor said. "And as for the army, well, they're not coming. Might have had a rummage around in your interspatial warp controls earlier. A bit sloppy of you to leave them lying around in the open."

The Trifaldoreign roared, clearly preparing to run the Doctor through with his sword, but the Doctor activated the sonic, making the Trifaldoreign fall back as the piercing sound rang through his head. The Doctor darted out of the way, and unlocked Dawn from the chains.

"Where's Buffy?" Dawn asked him.

"Not a clue," said the Doctor. "Looking for you, at a guess." He glanced over, noticing that the Trifaldoreign had now gotten to his feet, and was looking at the Doctor as if baying for his blood. "Probably shouldn't stick around here to wait for her, though. Allons-y!" And the Doctor grabbed Dawn's hand, and ran towards the entrance of the cave.

The flap of wings echoed through the cave, and Dawn gave a little cry, grabbing his hand even tighter, as she abruptly stopped running. The Doctor looked back, and noticed that the Trifaldoreign had grabbed Dawn's shoulder with its claws, and was trying to pull her back. The Doctor's eyes flicked across the top of the cave, and noticed the rock formations directly above where the Trifaldoreign was flying. The fissures that lined the rock's surface. Town built on both a fault line and a Hellmouth — bound to be instabilities built into a cave like this.

"Ready to run faster than you've ever run in your life?" the Doctor asked Dawn.

Dawn just squeaked, as the claw curled into her shoulder a little tighter.

The Doctor activated the sonic, pointing it at the top of the cave. Things began to tumble down from the roof of the cave, dust and debris and big chunks of rock. The candles flickered out, and as he felt the Trifaldoreign let her go, the Doctor yanked Dawn down the passage towards the mouth of the cave, up ahead. The Doctor pulled her out of the cave just as the entrance sealed shut behind them.

They stood, for a moment, in the woods right outside of Sunnydale, in front of the sealed cave, catching their breaths. It was only then, when the cool night air stung the Doctor's face and the adrenaline wore off, that the Doctor realized what had just happened. And what hadn't.

"What have I done?" he asked himself, staring at the sealed-up cave entrance.

"You saved my life," said Dawn.

He turned to her, that girl that rippled with glowing green energy, that girl that sang with the song of the Vortex. The most dangerous girl in the entire world — no, the entire universe.

"I saved your life," the Doctor repeated.

"Yeah," said Dawn. She tucked her hair behind her ears. "I mean, um, thanks. Just, you know. For the rescue and stuff." She said nothing for a few minutes, just watching him, carefully. "I think I get why Buffy likes you so much."

The Doctor gave Dawn a grin, and extended a hand towards her. Dawn took it. And in that moment, when their hands met, when the Doctor looked into her blue eyes — blue, just like her sister's — and could see that same trust and hope and compassion that he saw, so often, in Buffy (the look he'd seen and lost, so long ago, from Elizabeth) — that was when the Doctor knew.

He couldn't.

* * *

When Donna came to, she found herself back at Buffy's house, lying on the couch, an excited teenage voice buzzing in the air around her.

"And then the Doctor was all like, 'yeah, well you left your crazy spacey sounding control stuff out in the open, where I could break it, what do you think about that?' And the demon was like, 'Aaaaa! I'm going to kill you!' And the Doctor was like, 'You can't kill me, I've got the Annoyinator'—"

"Sonic screwdriver," Buffy cut in.

"Whatever," said Dawn. "And then the Doctor took the chains off, and we started running, and he was all like, 'you better run faster than you've ever run in your life,' and then the entire cave started crashing down on top of my head, and—"

"Donna?" came the Doctor's voice. Donna's eyes panned across the room, and landed on the Doctor. He seemed completely at ease, with none of that previous darkness in his eyes. Or maybe that was him trying to act all normal and reassuring again. No, hang on. What Dawn had just said…

"Did you save her life?" Donna asked the Doctor.

The Doctor grinned at Donna, and winked.

Donna collapsed back onto the couch. She'd done it. She'd guilted him into being unable to kill Dawn. Victory Donna Noble! Score! Except… if the entire universe came to an end. Then she'd be slightly less happy.

"Well, now that Donna's awake, I suppose we should be off," said the Doctor to Buffy.

"I thought you were looking for Excalibur," said Buffy. "Aren't you going to stay until you find it?"

The Doctor gave a small shrug. "Nah. Excalibur's overrated. Not all that important, anyways."

"You know, if you're going to lie, you could at least do it convincingly," said Buffy. "Come on. What's the real deal?" She studied him, carefully. And then her posture relaxed, as she worked it out. What Donna had worked out. That the Doctor had decided he couldn't do it. Buffy gave him a smile, then flung her arms around him. "Thank you."

And that was definitely not a just-mates hug. On either side.

Looked like Skinny was finally getting over his Rose fixation. Bout time, too. Donna didn't know exactly how long it'd been for him since he lost Rose, but it had obviously been way too long to keep moping about it.

Dawn caught Donna's eye, and made a kissy gesture with her fingers. Donna laughed. The Doctor pulled out of the hug, and Dawn shoved her hands behind her back, trying to look innocent.

"Something the matter?" he asked them.

"No," said Dawn. "Nothing."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. Then he turned back to Buffy, and spoke in a low voice. "Don't investigate this, don't pry any further than you have to, don't try to find Excalibur. Keep your eye on everyone you know, make sure no one suspicious is following you or tracking your actions. And for the sakes of everyone you know and love, don't tell another soul about anything that happened today."

"But if Excalibur is still dangerous—"

"I'll be back," said the Doctor. "I promise. Donna and I will be back, just to make sure everything's fine and dandy." He glanced up at Donna. "Won't we, Donna?"

"Long as you let me treat Dawn to a shopping spree courtesy of your psychic paper," said Donna.

The Doctor gave a small sigh, then flicked his eyes back to Buffy. They stayed that way, a little too close together, a little too touchy feely, a little too… well, a little too not-just-matesy. Then, without having to say anything, they broke apart. The Doctor hopped over to Donna, and offered her a hand up off the sofa. "Come along, Donna," he said. "Time and space await."

* * *

Buffy escorted them back to the TARDIS, just to make sure that the Doctor didn't do anything. The Doctor didn't mind. The moment the Doctor and Donna entered the TARDIS, the Doctor began his dance around the central console, as he programmed in their next flight. Donna closed the doors, then sat on the jumpseat, watching him.

"You couldn't do it, could you?" she asked. "I knew you couldn't."

The Doctor gave Donna a long, dark stare, then went back to his work at the central console. It was a stare that reminded Donna that this alien she was travelling with had done things she couldn't even imagine, things that she probably didn't want to know about.

Was that whole thing back at the house just an act?

"You're not going to kill her, right?" asked Donna. She was starting to wonder if she needed to shout at him a bit more, or if she should go all out with the slap offensive.

"I'm not," the Doctor agreed. He sighed, and slumped over the central console. "I can't," he confessed. "It's the one thing I cannot bring myself to do." He stared at the buttons beneath him, a terrible look of defeat on his face. When he next spoke, his words were little more than a whisper. "I can't destroy her. Not again."

"Who?" asked Donna. "Dawn?"

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. A moment that stretched into a vast chasm of time that seemed to roar with memories the Doctor couldn't forget, with pain and loss and the weight of two different timelines stretching across the universe.

"Yes," he said, at last.

And Donna knew he was lying.


	3. Wibbly Wobbly, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor meets Riley Finn.

Donna and the Doctor kept coming back.

Dawn liked it when they arrived. Donna was funny, and loud, and liked shopping and all sorts of stuff. And, to be completely honest, Dawn thought that Buffy should ditch Riley and run off with the Doctor, because Buffy and the Doctor obviously had way more in common. Plus, it would be really cool to crash on her sister's couch when said couch was in a super-duper time machine.

They'd shown up last night, when Buffy was off with Riley. That had been hilarious. The Doctor had acted all scared around Mom, and Donna had been making fun of him all throughout dinner, and Mom had been… well, her normal Mom-self. Which was to say, she'd been the least threatening person ever. Which just made the Doctor even more scared of her, and it got funnier and funnier every minute.

Then the Doctor had discovered some unknown energy trace, which meant that he and Donna had been off bright and early that morning to track it down.

Buffy had stayed out all night with Riley.

Dawn started pouring out the cereal into little bowls on the countertop. Well, it was Buffy's loss. One less opportunity for Buffy to make little kissy faces at the Doctor, one less opportunity for Buffy to be all moon-faced and Riley to get all jealous.

"Honestly, Dawn, how many bowls of cereal are you planning on eating?" her mom asked.

Dawn reached into the cereal box. "Oh, these aren't for eating. I'm just trying to get the extra out of the way so I could…" she pulled out the little sticker prize from inside the box, and waved it at her mom, "get this!" She sat down, examining the sticker more carefully. "Anyways, I want eggs."

"You want the cereal prize, but you don't want the cereal," said her mom. "You are growing up." Her mom grabbed the spatula. "All righty. Half an omelet coming up." She scooped the omelet onto the plate.

"Oh, with ketchup, please," said Dawn.

"Mhm," said her mom, picking up the plates and walking over to Dawn.

Then Dawn's mom stopped, in the center of the kitchen. As if something had just come over her. She winced.

"What is…?" she looked up at Dawn, suddenly confused. "Who are you?"

And then she collapsed.

* * *

The moment Buffy got the call from Dawn, she and Riley headed over to the hospital. Buffy looked pretty freaked, and Riley wasn't really sure what he could say that would calm her down. The moment they got to the hospital — before they'd even pulled into the parking lot — Buffy's eyes went wide, and she turned to Riley.

"Riley, wait, we forgot insurance!" Buffy told him. "Dawn's the one who brought Mom here, and she would never have remembered to bring the medical insurance information, so it must still be at the house. If we don't have that, I mean, what if they can't operate, or something, and she's just sitting around dying because we didn't have insurance, and…"

Riley was about to argue, possibly point out that, technically, in California, doctors had to operate on anyone that came into the emergency room, insurance or no. But… honestly… Riley was just as happy to have a good excuse to leave Buffy here and investigate Buffy's mom's illness on his own.

(Because whatever answers existed, Buffy wasn't going to find them in a hospital.)

"Relax," said Riley. "If you give me the keys to your house, I can swing by and pick up anything you need. Now go and see your sister."

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and handed Riley the keys to her house, describing in detail where the information would be, even as she was climbing out of the car. Then, without even finishing her sentence, she raced to the hospital.

Riley headed back to the Summers residence. He knew what was really going on, even if he didn't know exactly how to break the news to Buffy. And his suspicions were only confirmed when he saw the big blue Police Box sitting on the front lawn of Buffy's house.

Riley went inside Buffy's house, and, finding no one, went off to gather the insurance information. Then he heard the buzz of the sonic screwdriver, followed by the Doctor's voice ringing through the air. Riley felt for the gun he'd begun carrying with him, ever since Buffy had mentioned someone was trying to kill him.

And he knew what he had to do.

* * *

Dawn sat out in the hallway of the hospital, knocking her shoes together, hands in her lap. She was clearly trying to act brave, but the worry shone through in her eyes. She glanced up at Buffy.

"Hey," she said.

Buffy rushed over to her, crouching by her sister. "Any news?"

"Nope," said Dawn. She banged her feet together, again. "Where's Riley?"

"He's back at the house," said Buffy. "Getting the insurance information."

Dawn froze. "The house?"

"Yeah," said Buffy.

"Our house?"

"Yeah."

Dawn nodded, very slowly. "He's been carrying a gun with him, recently, right? Because of the Excalibur thing?"

Buffy's eyes went wide. "The Doctor?"

"He came last night," said Dawn. "While you were off with Riley. He and Donna were gone all this morning, hunting down some evil whatever thing. But they could show up any minute, and if Riley's there…"

Buffy remembered. What the Doctor had told her, in his own future. The day the Doctor met Riley, Riley tried to kill him. And this particular Doctor, with Donna, was young enough that he hadn't met Riley, yet. Which meant… if this was the first time they met…

Buffy turned, and ran.

* * *

The Doctor had been expecting people at Buffy's house, so he was rather surprised, upon his return, to discover no people. And a locked door. He buzzed the door with his sonic, and let himself inside. Sure enough, no one.

Not the sound of Dawn mouthing off to her mother, not the sound of Joyce cooking breakfast, not even the sound of Buffy telling Dawn to stop being annoying and leave her alone. The house was almost completely silent.

"Oi," said Donna. "Do you normally wander around, breaking into your friends' houses? That could be considered stalking, you know!"

"Stalking?" asked the Doctor. "More like breaking and entering, I'd think." He stepped further inside the house, and frowned. "Except… there's someone else here. I can tell."

"That some sort of Time Lordy sixth sense of yours?" Donna asked him.

"No," said the Doctor. "I can hear the footsteps." He swung around, just in time to be clobbered on the head with the butt of a pistol. He fell, as the world faded into black around him.

* * *

"Get up!" the voice snapped, as the Doctor felt a stinging sensation on his face.

The Doctor's eyes snapped open, shifted around to take in his surroundings. Oh. Brilliant. He was tied up, and lying, apparently, in the bathtub. Which probably meant that someone was trying to kill him, and wanted to be able to clean up the mess, afterwards.

Probably the man he was looking at, right now.

The man he was looking at was tall, well built, with blond hair and blue eyes. But his face looked far too pale, his eyes crazed, his lips twitching as he glared at the Doctor with — was that hatred? Oh, yes. That was a look the Doctor knew far too well. It was pure loathing.

And therefore it was only natural that the man would have a gun. Which he did. Pointed at the Doctor.

"This might be the first time I've been forced, at gunpoint, to take a bath," the Doctor said. "I'm glad you think so much of my personal hygiene."

"I'm going to kill you," the man said.

The Doctor sighed. "It's never the nice option, is it?" he asked.

"I always thought there was something good in you," the man said. "I always thought that it didn't matter if she was in love with you, because at least you were one of the good guys. But then I heard that you were out to kill me."

Oh, dear. This person very clearly knew him, and was quite mad at him. For something he hadn't done, yet. Which was always a bit sticky to explain to non-time-traveling humans.

"Actually, not out to kill you," said the Doctor. "Since I don't know who you are. Time travel, and all that. I'm the—"

"I know you aren't trying to kill _me_!" the man shouted. "It was when I figured out who you were trying to kill that I knew what I had to do! Because Buffy may think you're above killing her family members, but I don't."

Uh, oh.

"Ah, I see," said the Doctor. "You know, as reasons to kill me go, that's actually not a bad one." He gave the man a cold, steady glare. "What have you done to Donna?"

"Who?"

"Donna," said the Doctor. "My friend. The one I came in with. She has nothing to do with any of this, you know. She was trying to stop me."

"She's fine," said the man. "I had to gag her to get her to stop shouting at me, but she's fine. I'm not going to hurt her. You're the only one I'm going to kill."

"Right," said the Doctor. His mind was still racing, trying to work out how to get out of this. He had managed to slip one hand into his trouser pocket, but he couldn't find the sonic.

The man held out the familiar tool in front of the Doctor, in his non-gun-holding hand. "Looking for this?"

Well, then. Whoever this was knew him pretty well, it seemed.

"I cleared everything out of your pockets," said the man, lowering the sonic. "No way for you to escape. And no one's coming to rescue you, not this time. They're all on the way to the hospital, trying to undo the damage you've already done."

"The hospital?" asked the Doctor. Had something happened to Dawn? He'd seen her only last night, and she'd been perfectly fine. If someone was trying to frame him for murder, though, they were doing an awfully good job. "Is she all right?"

"I don't know," said the man. "You tell me."

"Killing me isn't going to fix anything," the Doctor urged. "Killing me isn't going to make her better. I can help."

"I've had enough of your helping," said the man. "I don't trust you."

Yes, the Doctor had worked that out, due to the gun.

"And besides," said the man, "killing you might not make her feel better. But it would certainly perk up my day."

Hm. There was a lot of talking, and not a whole lot of shooting going on, right now. Which was very good for the Doctor, because he was hoping that Donna could find a way to get free, wherever she'd wound up, and come and rescue him.

If this whoever he was wanted to talk, the Doctor was only too happy to comply.

"Well, if you're going to kill me, at least let me die well-informed," said the Doctor. "Any chance of a name? Species? Planet of origin?"

"Human!" the man shouted. "Don't you know who I am?" His face went red, angry. "Me! The guy whose girlfriend you've been trying to steal!"

"Girlfriend?" asked the Doctor. He quirked an eyebrow. "You don't look much like Mickey. Although, granted, idiot and all that."

"Riley!" the man — Riley, the Doctor supposed — shouted. "Riley Finn!"

"And you know me, but I don't know you," the Doctor checked. "I see. You do realize that—"

"You've been making my life a living hell since the day I met you," said Riley. "Always making sure Buffy knows how much smarter than me you are, how much more capable than me you are, how much better you are at saving the world than I am. Always taking her away from me! Letting her tie you up in her bed!"

"Sorry, letting her do what?" the Doctor asked.

"I know she's in love with you," said Riley. "Everything you said, all that bullshit about a telepathic instinct and a very close friendship — I can't believe I ever fell for that. You're all she ever thinks about. All she ever cares about. All her greatest fears and greatest aspirations revolve around you! While you're still around, I'm always going to be second best. Just human. Just the one she's settled for. While you're still around, she'll never love me the way she should."

Brilliant. He wasn't going to be shot for a good reason, like nearly killing Dawn. He was being shot by a jealous boyfriend. Who, very clearly, didn't understand that the Doctor hadn't actually lived through any of that, yet.

"You do realize I haven't actually—" the Doctor tried, but Riley cut him off.

"You said she wouldn't compromise her own morals for anyone or anything," said Riley. "But you know what? I've found the one exception. You. If you ever showed up and said, 'hey, Buffy, I'm going to destroy the world,' she'd probably help you do it!"

"Oh, dear. You're completely barmy," said the Doctor.

"She was prepared to kill me!" Riley shouted. "When you told her that I was hoarding a dangerous mythical sword, she was fully and completely prepared to kill me. Her boyfriend! The man she should love! Don't you see? You tell her to kill someone, and she does it. No questions asked! A sweet, wonderful girl, and you're turning her into your own personal murderer!"

Ouch. That stung a wee bit more than Riley could know. Other timeline and whatnot. Not that it was true in this timeline, of course.

"Right. Yes. I see," said the Doctor. "You wouldn't, by any chance, happen to be mildly psychotic, would you? Because, see, it would explain quite a lot — outside of reality and all that…"

"What is it about you that makes her love you so much more than me?" Riley demanded. "What is it you're doing that I'm not? Is it the vampire blood-drinking thing? Is it not being human? Is it the time machine? Because I've got your TARDIS key, now. Not here, of course. I hid it, so you couldn't get away. But as soon as you're dead, I can be the one with the time machine."

Yep. Completely barmy.

"You know, you probably should have stopped after the 'killing family members' reason," said the Doctor. "That was an incredibly good reason to kill me. The others are a bit of a letdown. And, to be honest, they make you sound increasingly mad."

"You want to know why I'm really killing you?" asked Riley. "It's because you're evil. And I hate you."

"Ah, yes, that I noticed," said the Doctor.

"I hate you!" Riley shouted again. "Do you have any idea how much I hate you? I hate you more than anyone else ever has or ever will!"

"Well, I'm fairly certain the Slitheen would disagree with you on that," said the Doctor. "As would a rather sassy trampoline from the year five billion. And Sutekh. And Magnus Greel, for that matter. In fact, on a cosmic scale, Riley Finn, you don't actually hate me all that much." He gave a grin, and a wink.

Riley seethed.

"Oh, don't take it personally," said the Doctor. "I am a notoriously obnoxious person. All sorts of people hate me. The original evil from before the dawn of time tried to possess my body, out of spite. The Master destroyed the world just to watch me suffer. And Elizabeth tricked me into killing 38,000 innocent people because she wanted to prove exactly how much she hated me."

"38,000," said Riley. "The population of Sunnydale, you mean?"

Oh. Right. That had probably been a bad example to use.

"And you call Buffy Elizabeth, don't you?" Riley continued. He gave a bitter laugh. "I knew I was right to kill you."

"Ah, actually, different Elizabeth, different timeline," the Doctor explained. "Different Sunnydale. Not even remotely the same as this one — well, I say not even remotely the same, except the two timelines are linked, which means that a very large number of people are still going to die in 2003 in Sunnydale, at least partially because of what I did in the other one, even if it was a trap from the get-go, and…"

Riley clicked the safety off the gun.

"…you're going to shoot me, now," the Doctor concluded.

This wasn't exactly how the Doctor had imagined this incarnation dying. He certainly wouldn't have chosen to die in a bathroom. Or be shot by a madman. Or have his death be a massive temporal paradox.

And if he'd known he was going to die, he would certainly not have taken Donna along.

(He hoped she was all right.)

Riley's finger pressed a little down on the trigger.

"Ah, ah, I wouldn't do that," said the Doctor. "See, you're killing me because of things I haven't done, yet. Moment I die, you'll have a massive universe-destroying paradox on your hands."

"You always say that!" Riley snapped at him (although, the Doctor noted, he had relaxed his trigger finger, so that was a step in the right direction). "Every time you do something horrible, after every person you kill, you're always going on about time this and paradox that. Well, you know what? I think you're lying! About all of it! Creating evil maniacal killing machines, allowing government institutions to be slaughtered, destroying Buffy's life — I'm not going to let you techno-babble your way out of any of it, anymore. You're worse than any vampire Buffy's ever killed, and you deserve to die."

The Doctor moved, slightly, so he could align himself on the correct trajectory to head-butt Riley out of the way and escape to freedom, but Riley caught the movement. With his free hand, he pinned the Doctor's shoulder down to the bathtub's sloped edge, holding the Doctor in place.

"And Buffy Summers would agree with that, then?" asked the Doctor. He wasn't exactly sure how much telepathic stuff Buffy could pick up when he used her name, or how far the trick worked, but perhaps this would let her know that he was in a wee bit of trouble, and would greatly appreciate a timely rescue. "That you should kill me?"

"That I should eliminate a threat to her family?" asked Riley. "Yes. She would. Killing you will make her love me, again."

"Yes, because human women are always terribly attracted to the men who leave dead bodies in their bathtubs!" said the Doctor. "Why didn't I think of that before? It's an absolutely brilliant plan."

"Are you making fun of me?" Riley demanded.

"Well, perhaps a little," the Doctor confessed. "Although, to be fair, you are asking for it. And I am a thoroughly obnoxious person. As I mentioned before!"

Riley seethed at him, the veins sticking out of his neck.

"Listen, I understand that killing me would make your life complete," the Doctor told him. "But, well, look at you! Pale skin, beady eyes, unhealthy pupil dilation, and your pulse is probably skyrocketing. Looks like you need a bit of bed rest and a nice bowl of chicken soup, Riley Finn. So, why not put off killing me until you're nice and healthy, yes? That way, you can truly relish the feeling of accomplishment when you tie me up and shoot me in your girlfriend's bathtub."

"Stop that!" Riley shouted. He waved the gun closer to the Doctor's face. "Why aren't you afraid of me? You should be afraid of me! I have a loaded gun in my hand, and I'm going to kill you with it!"

"Well, yeah, but, see, thing is, I come face to face with loaded guns every day," said the Doctor. "It's extremely rare for me to go anywhere in the universe where people _aren't_ trying to kill me. In fact, this isn't even the closest I've come to death today!"

Riley examined him, carefully. "I see. You think if I shoot you, you can just come back to life. You think I don't know about regeneration. But I do. And I also know that Buffy's always really worried about things happening to your brain. So I'm guessing," shifting the aim of the gun to the Doctor's temple, "the best way to kill you for good is to shoot your head off. Afraid now?"

Well, slightly more alarmed would probably be a more accurate description. Apparently, Riley Finn knew rather a lot about him. And when would Riley have learned about regeneration?

"Think about what you're doing, Riley Finn," the Doctor urged, in his most soothing tone of voice. "You don't really want to kill me. Something is making you sick, psychotic. I know you aren't really a murderer."

"It doesn't count as murder," Riley growled, "when the thing you're shooting isn't human! I know what you are. Hostile non-terrestrial. Killing you is just… pest control." He gave the Doctor a pointed look. "Extermination."

Okay, yes, that was far, far more alarming to the Doctor. Because the way Riley said it, the Doctor was certain Riley knew exactly what it meant. No, not just that. The Doctor was sure that Riley had heard Daleks use that phrase before.

"That made you scared," Riley noted.

"Well, yes, actually, it did," the Doctor confessed. "Because, see, you shouldn't know about Daleks. And it's fairly clear that you've…"

That was when the Doctor heard the front door slam open, downstairs. And he knew he was in trouble.

Riley's eyes flicked over to the door of the bathroom. It was locked, but that wasn't going to hold for very long. The Doctor knew what this meant for Riley. Riley had to decide, right here and now, whether he was going to go through with it. Because whoever had just entered the house was about to find Donna. And Donna would tell them exactly what Riley was up to.

Sure enough, the loud, brassy voice of Donna Noble pierced through the air, a few seconds later, shouting about a madman in the bathroom with a gun.

And both the Doctor and Riley recognized the voice that answered Donna.

Riley's hand shook, as he pressed the gun against the Doctor's temple. Footsteps up the stairs, and then banging on the door.

"Riley!" came Buffy's voice. "Riley, stop!"

The door to the bathroom rattled. Riley hesitated, then took in a deep breath, and seemed to make up his mind.

"Goodbye, Doctor," Riley said.

The door was kicked open, and Buffy flew at Riley, jerking his hand up as he fired. The bullet lodged into the side of the bathtub, just above the Doctor's head. Well, that was good. This would have been a horribly embarrassing way to die, all things considered.

Buffy wrestled Riley to the floor, trying to get the gun out of his hands. The Doctor couldn't quite see them past the edge of the tub, as they flailed around on the floor.

Donna ran in behind Buffy, edging towards the Doctor and untying him.

"So, Spaceman," said Donna. "What has this taught us about flirting with Earth girls who already have boyfriends?"

"Flirting?" the Doctor said, trying to shake circulation into his hands and legs. "Flirting? So far, I've told her that there's nothing good left in her, that I was a mass murderer, that she should stop trusting me, that I was her worst enemy, and that she was going to try to kill me. I'm not sure I could have sounded less flirty if I'd tried!"

"Oi, don't look at me, Sunshine," said Donna. "You're the one tied up in the…"

A loud gunshot echoed through the bathroom, and Donna fell to the ground.

"Donna?" the Doctor cried. He jumped up to his feet. "Donna?"

Buffy managed to grab the gun out of Riley's hands, as Riley stared at Donna, in complete shock, his jaw hanging open.

"I… I didn't mean to…" he started.

"You didn't have to kill her!" the Doctor shouted. "She was innocent! She didn't have anything to do with this! You should have killed me!"

"Doctor, she's still alive," said Buffy, feeling for a pulse. She tried to apply pressure to the gunshot wound. She glanced over at Riley. "Call for an ambulance!"

Riley just stood there, clear horror on his face, unable to move.

"Riley!" Buffy screamed at him.

That seemed to snap Riley to his senses, and he raced out of the bathroom and down the stairs.

The Doctor crouched down by Donna, and tried to soothe her, telling her she was going to be okay, but she was completely out. He looked up at Buffy.

"TARDIS," he said. "There are hospitals in the future. I could make sure…"

Then he remembered that Riley had his TARDIS key. And had hidden it somewhere. Somewhere, the Doctor was guessing, he wasn't going to reveal.

"The hospital here is closer," said Buffy. "And more reliable in terms of driving. Don't worry. She's going to be fine."

The Doctor glared at the open door to the bathroom. "He really your boyfriend?" he asked.

Buffy nodded. "He's… he's nice. Usually. He's really…"

The Doctor fixed his eyes back on Buffy. The bloody body of Donna Noble cradled in his arms, the gun still warm in Buffy's hands, the ropes that had once restrained the Doctor discarded over the side of the bathtub.

He said nothing. He didn't need to.

Buffy bit her lip, and looked away.


	4. Part II

Donna had been rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance. The Doctor had gone with her. Buffy had stayed behind to ride in Riley's car, so she could shout at him.

"So?" Buffy asked. "Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

"It was an accident," Riley said, the horror and panic still searing through his voice. "I swear! I never meant to kill an innocent…. I mean… look, I'll pay for the surgery. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to Donna. I promise. I'll make sure she's—"

"You tied up one of my best friends," Buffy cut in, in a voice that was far more calm and level than she felt, "in my bathtub. And tried to shoot him. In the head."

Riley said nothing for a long moment.

"Oh," he said, at last. "You're talking about _that_."

Buffy crossed her arms.

"Buffy," said Riley. "I… I love you. Really. That's why I did it."

"You tried to murder one of my best friends because you _love_ me?" Buffy cried. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Riley didn't look at her, just muttered into his steering wheel, "You didn't get this worked up when I pulled a gun on Angel last year."

"Angel attacked you!" Buffy snapped. "The Doctor's never done anything to you, Riley, and you've done everything wrong to him! Last year, you locked the Doctor up in the Initiative so he was tortured for two months!"

"That was different," Riley told her. "Last time, I did the wrong thing. This time, I was provoked."

"You clobbered him across the head the moment he walked through the door, tied him up so he couldn't fight back, and tried to kill him in such a way that he wouldn't regenerate!" said Buffy. "How the hell were you provoked?"

"You told me he was going to kill me!" Riley retorted.

"I said someone was out to kill you," Buffy said. "I never said it was him."

"It wasn't that hard to work out," Riley told her. "In my view, this was self-defense."

"You tied him up in my bathtub!" Buffy exclaimed.

"And you tied him up in your bed!" Riley shouted.

Buffy gawped at him. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Oh, don't play innocent," said Riley. "I'm not stupid, Buffy. I know what's going on between you two. You save the world with him way more than you ever save it with me."

"I'm the Slayer!" said Buffy. "It's my job to save the world! And I save it with him, because he happens to be really good at it!" She stared at Riley. "Is that what this was really about? Jealousy?"

"No," said Riley. "I wouldn't have done it if he'd still been one of the good guys. It was only when I worked out what he was doing to your mother…"

"What?" Buffy cried. "Riley, what are you talking about?"

"You told me that he was out to murder someone," said Riley. "And you assumed it was me, because you thought he was above murdering your family. But that's exactly what he's doing!"

"The Doctor isn't trying to kill Mom," said Buffy. "That's ridiculous."

"The moment he started showing up in order," said Riley, "your Mom started feeling sick. And you know he wanted to kill someone you'd never forgive him for killing."

"If you think this stupid excuse is going to make up for the fact that you shot someone in my house—"

"He told me!" Riley shouted. "I didn't even tell him who it was, and he knew exactly who I was talking about. He said, as reasons to kill him went, that was a very good one!"

Buffy said nothing for a moment. She just kept remembering, when the Doctor had first told her about this, that time he'd been all depressed and stuff —

_He had a good reason. A very good reason. You'll think so, too, when it happens._

And if the Doctor really _was_ trying to kill her mother… Buffy had no idea what she'd do, then. The idea had never even occurred to her. Her family? No, he'd never…

Except… he'd never actually said it was one of her _friends_ he was trying to kill. And the Doctor always had been scared of her mother, hadn't he?

And Buffy might be really, really against killing the Doctor, but if the Doctor really was the person killing her mom… she honestly wasn't sure what she'd do to him, if that were the case. Nothing good.

_Worst thing I've ever done… my granddaughter… hate me forever… become your greatest enemy… no rule I wouldn't break… have to do something that will make me hate myself…_

It all fit far, far too well. Scarily well.

Buffy shook her head. "You still shouldn't have tried to shoot him."

"What else did you want me to do?" asked Riley. "Let him keep running free while your mother got sicker and sicker?"

"You should have told me!" Buffy snapped. "I'm the Slayer. The Doctor is _my_ responsibility."

"Buffy, if I'd told you, you probably would have throttled your mother yourself," said Riley. "You'd do anything the Doctor told you, no matter how horrible it was."

Buffy gaped. "How could you even say that?"

"It's true!" Riley snapped. "If any of the rest of us mere mortals did — even once — what the Doctor does all the time, you'd flip. Cajoling vampires into drinking his blood. Standing aside and doing nothing, while innocent people are locked up and tortured — or even slaughtered — just because he 'has to'. Creating evil monsters. Actively working against you when you're out on patrol. Murdering your family."

"Stop it," Buffy muttered, looking away.

"No, I'm not going to stop!" said Riley. "You are so obsessed with him, you can't think straight. Where's it going to end, Buffy? When's he going to make you do something you can't take back?" He breathed harder. "You know what he told me? At some point in your future, you're going to hate him. You're going to hate him so much, you're going to trick him into killing off the entire town of Sunnydale. 38,000 people."

Buffy's head snapped back towards Riley. "Wait, 38,000?"

"He's not the guy you think he is," said Riley. "He's not…"

But Buffy wasn't listening anymore. Because she just kept thinking… Elizabeth tricked him? He wasn't saying 2003 was all his fault? An earlier Doctor, a different story about 2003. That was something she had to write down in the notebook.

But only after she was done yelling at Riley, and then making sure the Doctor wasn't killing her mom. (And possibly hitting him very, very hard if he was. Several times. Maybe more than several times. Possibly hurting him until he fixed everything and made her mom okay again.)

"Riley," said Buffy, in a dark, dangerous voice, "don't you ever, _ever_ do _anything_ to the Doctor again, do you understand? Not even if you think you have a really good reason. Because if you do one more horrible thing to the Doctor, I'm going to make sure you get locked up for the rest of your life."

"You can't convict me of murder," said Riley. "I know the law. If it's not human, it's not murder."

"I've got a friend in Cardiff," said Buffy, "who would be more than happy to disagree. And that guy's immortal, so you wouldn't be getting out of jail for a long time. I might not hurt humans, but if you harm the Doctor, I can still make sure you suffer for it."

"You're going to let a vampire lock me up?" asked Riley.

"Jack's human," said Buffy. "Immortal, human, completely in love with the Doctor, and not someone you want to mess with. I'm pretty sure if I called him up on the phone right now and said you just tried to murder the Doctor in my bathtub, he'd be down here in about thirty seconds, arresting you. And if I told him what you did last year, Jack might start using you as target practice. So you'd better stay very, very far away from the Doctor from now on. No matter what happens. You got that?"

"Look, Buffy, I'm sorry," said Riley. "I didn't think."

"No, you _did_ think!" Buffy cried. "That's why I'm mad at you. This wasn't a crime of passion. You were trying to work out exactly where to shoot him to stop him regenerating. You've obviously given this a large amount of thought!"

Riley said nothing.

"How often have you thought about killing the Doctor?" Buffy demanded.

"Not… as much as you'd think," Riley muttered.

Buffy's jaw dropped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Not every single second of the day!" Riley insisted.

"But a lot?"

Riley paused. "Possibly."

"Before any of this stuff started happening with Mom?"

A much longer pause. Then, "Yes."

Buffy gawped at him. "Why?"

"Because he's an alien bastard who will do anything to make sure you don't love me!" Riley said.

"You're completely insane!"

"No, you're the one who's insane," said Riley. "He shows up, and says he's to blame for all these terrible things. Confesses that he's murdered billions of people! And you don't believe him, you don't think he's killed all the people he claims he has, because he's better than all that, and you're sure—"

"Riley, by his standards, you're a mass murderer, and so am I!" Buffy snapped. "He considers vampires and soul-less monsters people. One of the species he's torn up about killing is the Daleks. You've met the Daleks. Tell me—"

"Are you in love with him?" Riley demanded.

Buffy stared at Riley. "What?"

"You heard me," said Riley. "Are you in love with him?"

"Riley, I'm in love with _you_!" Buffy insisted.

"That's not a no," said Riley. He glanced over at her. "Just tell me this. How many times have you slept with him?"

"Zero," said Buffy.

"Dawn said you two have been playing out serious bondage fantasies together," said Riley. "Handcuffs? Chains? Tying to the bed?"

"Dawn told you what?" Buffy cried. Oh, Dawn was _so_ dead the next time she saw her! "Riley, I don't even understand what the Doctor considers sex. I'm sure I haven't had it with him."

"Insert tab A into slot B," said Riley.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that part's optional," said Buffy. "Hence the whole 'not understanding' thing."

"Then how do you know you haven't had it?" asked Riley.

"Well… I… know how it starts," Buffy admitted, sheepishly.

"So you _did_ have sex with him!" Riley shouted.

"Okay, first, that was before I started going out with you," said Buffy. "Second, I was drugged and cave-womanny at the time. Third, it wasn't remotely like normal human sex, and we never took off our clothes. And fourth, this Doctor hasn't even lived through—"

"But it still felt like sex," Riley said.

Buffy blushed. "Maybe a little."

Buffy saw the veins in Riley's hand pulse as he clenched the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. His eyes blazed with anger, his neck completely tense. Buffy half expected him to turn around and sport red eyes and a frothing mouth, or something.

"What's wrong with you?" Buffy asked him.

"You had sex with him," said Riley.

"And that's a reason to murder someone?" Buffy cried. "Riley, just listen to yourself! You're not like this. I _know_ you're not like this! The Riley Finn I know wouldn't go around trying to shoot people. He wouldn't—"

But then Buffy remembered the way that Riley reacted to the mere suggestion that Buffy had slept with Angel — before she and Riley had even met. The way he'd come into her dorm room, gun in hand, fully prepared to kill Angel for the crime of being her ex-boyfriend. And Buffy remembered how Riley had looked her in the eye, last year, and lied to her, over and over again, telling her that he hadn't seen the Doctor, that the Doctor was fine and she should forget about him. She remembered what Rory had mentioned to her, that summer — that every time Riley heard the Doctor's name, he instinctively seemed to reach for his gun. And Buffy realized she was wrong.

Riley Finn was _exactly_ the kind of guy that would kill the Doctor.

They didn't speak the rest of the way to the hospital.

* * *

The Doctor arrived at the hospital, watching as Donna was wheeled into surgery. He heard a teenage voice that he recognized, and snapped his head around to find…

Dawn.

"Is that Donna?" Dawn asked, running over to him. "What happened to Donna? Is she okay?"

The Doctor stared at Dawn. She looked fine. Completely fine. Nothing appeared to be wrong with her. But Riley had said that something had happened to Dawn, hadn't he? Or had that just been a lie?

"Are you all right?" the Doctor asked Dawn.

"No!" said Dawn. "Donna's all bloody and stuff! What…" She trailed off, as she worked it out. Her eyes went wide. "Riley?"

The Doctor said nothing.

"Riley shot Donna?" Dawn cried. "Why would he do that?"

"Because that's what happens when you wave loaded guns around," the Doctor growled. "People die." He felt all the anger, all the hurt and pain and loss bubbling inside of him. "It should have been me."

Dawn tore her eyes away from the emergency room door, looking over at the Doctor. Then she swooped in, and gave him a great big hug.

The Doctor, puzzled, looked down at her. The girl who glowed with green energy. This terribly dangerous girl, the girl that — for the good of the universe — he should have killed. Hugging him.

"If anything ever happened to you," Dawn said, "Buffy would freak. Major freak."

After a few moments, the Doctor wrapped his arms around Dawn, and hugged her back.

* * *

By the time Buffy and Riley reached the hospital, Buffy found the Doctor with Dawn, by the emergency room. The Doctor was pacing the hallway, hand running through his hair, staring at his shoes, his mind clearly on other things. Dawn was just looking seriously worried.

Buffy still had no idea what to do about Riley. Which was probably one reason why Riley was hanging back, away from them. Although it also had something to do with the fact that Riley was trying to use his government connections and other resources to try to get better treatment for Donna.

(At least he was doing something right.)

Buffy went over to Dawn. "Any news on Mom?" she whispered.

Dawn shook her head. "Or Donna."

Buffy eyed the Doctor, trying not to let Riley's words sink in too deep. Because she needed to talk to the Doctor about this. She needed to ask him if it was true. And if it _was_ — if he really was trying to murder her mother — and Buffy wasn't in complete control of herself when she found out, she knew she'd probably fly off the handle and kill the Doctor herself.

And hate herself, after she was done.

"Wait here," said Buffy. "I need to have a talk with the Doctor."

Buffy waited for Dawn to put in one of her comments about how Buffy was taking the opportunity to flirt with him, or something, but Dawn — for once in her life — showed some discretion. She just nodded, and sat back down in the chair.

Buffy took the Doctor by the arm, and, without even saying a word, led him aside — far enough away that Buffy hoped Dawn wouldn't overhear. She looked at the Doctor — at the pain and anger in his face, at the worry in his eyes.

"What's going on?" said Buffy.

"Your boyfriend just shot Donna," the Doctor told her.

"Not that," said Buffy. "Excalibur."

"Stable," said the Doctor. "Under control."

"You said you weren't going to kill anyone, anymore."

The Doctor didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the floor. Every inch of his face blaming himself, over and over again, for what had happened earlier today, to Donna.

Or… for what he was doing to someone else?

"Doctor," said Buffy, trying to keep herself as calm as humanly possible. "What's happening to my mother?"

The Doctor snapped his eyes up to her, a suddenly confused look on his face. "Your mother?" The confusion turned to worry. "Is something wrong with…?" He glanced over his shoulder at Dawn, and everything seemed to click in his mind.

"You… didn't know," Buffy realized. She wasn't sure whether to feel relieved that the Doctor hadn't been doing anything, or upset because it meant he wouldn't be able to cure this whatever-it-was. Or upset at Riley because he'd shot the Doctor for no reason. "But…" She shook her head. "But you said he had a good reason!"

"Who?"

"Riley!" Buffy insisted. "When you told me about this! You said…."

Except the Doctor had said a _lot_ of things that weren't true, back then. He'd been seriously depressed, had probably just watched her die, and had been tortured into believing that he was the reason human beings killed each other. Of course he'd have thought Riley had a good reason, back then. Less than an hour after that, he'd told her he was the origin of evil in the universe and asked her to throw him into the Hellmouth.

"You should have just let him kill me," said the Doctor, his eyes fixed on the door to the emergency room. "You should have let him do it. At least then, he would have gotten it out of his system. At least then, this would never have happened to Donna."

"Donna's going to be fine," said Buffy. "People have survived gunshots and stuff before."

"What's the year, now?" asked the Doctor. "2000?"

Buffy nodded.

"I died, in this year," said the Doctor. "On one of those operating tables. In surgery for a bullet wound. Donna could die, right here and now, because of me. Because I brought her here, I brought her with me, and I was thick enough to think I could protect her. Thick enough to think…" He trailed off, the sorrow etched into every facet of his countenance. "I'm going to have to take her home," he whispered. "Tell her family. Let them know…"

Buffy sighed, and hugged the Doctor, tightly. "She's going to be okay," she said.

And she realized — for someone like the Doctor, who'd lost his family and his home planet and everyone and everything he ever had — Donna was family. That was how they acted around one another. Not just like friends, but like… siblings.

How would Buffy feel, if someone tried to kill Dawn?

The Doctor's eyes strayed over to Buffy. "What happened to your mother?"

"Dunno," said Buffy. "She just got really disoriented and collapsed. Dawn said it was like Mom didn't even recognize her for a moment."

The Doctor said nothing for a while, his arms wrapped around Buffy's small frame. "Dawn. Is she…?"

"She's sort of freaked," said Buffy. She pulled away. "I guess I should probably go comfort her."

The Doctor glanced over at Dawn. "Mother didn't recognize her…" he muttered. Then he cleared his throat, and a determined look settled across his face. "I think… I'd better have a word with her, myself. A… private word. One that's long, long overdue."

Buffy frowned. What was so important for the Doctor to tell Dawn that he didn't want Buffy to know about it? And why was he telling Dawn, of all people? Dawn would just blab it out to everyone else.

The Doctor took Buffy's hand in his own. "She's going to need a big sister, after I tell her this," he said. "Please. Help her. Tell her how much you love her. Tell her about all those wonderful times you two had together, all those amazing memories you shared. Remember them, Elizabeth. Always remember them. And please, make sure Dawn remembers them, too. Make sure she remembers they really happened."

Buffy was completely confused, now. The Doctor was up to something, but Buffy had absolutely no idea what. Did this have something to do with Excalibur? She didn't see how it could. Did Dawn have Excalibur? And if she did, how did that have anything to do with memory?

Buffy nodded at the Doctor, then turned and headed out the door, dragging Riley along with her, so they could give the Doctor and her sister some privacy. She'd hear about whatever it was soon enough. Dawn was never good at keeping secrets.


	5. Part III

The Doctor came over to Dawn, and crouched down beside her chair. He wasn't really sure how to go about this sort of thing — he'd always kept it a secret, even with the Princess Astra. And if Dawn had simply been another one of the many humans who came and went in his life, perhaps he would have continued to do exactly that.

But he couldn't.

Maybe it was because Donna was dying in some emergency room, somewhere, and he couldn't bear the idea that Buffy would feel that kind of emotional pain. Maybe it was because Dawn and Donna had gotten along so well. Maybe it was because Dawn was so very, very young.

Or perhaps it was simply because of… Buffy.

"You and Buffy have a fight?" Dawn asked him.

"I told her I needed to speak with you alone," said the Doctor. "But… before I start… I need you to promise. Promise you'll never tell your sister about this. Any of it."

Dawn gave a half-shrug, her eyes still locked on the emergency room door. "Yeah, whatever."

The Doctor cleared his throat. When he spoke, he did so in a soft voice — so soft that Dawn could barely hear him. He didn't feel right telling her out in the open, like this — he should tell her in the TARDIS, or in some place where no one could overhear. But… if he didn't tell her now, the Doctor wasn't sure he'd ever get up the courage to tell her again. "A long, long time ago — so long ago, that perhaps it never really happened at all — some terribly stuffy higher dimensional entities foresaw a terrible conflict — a war with enough destruction to completely destroy the universe."

"Yeah, Buffy told me about that," said Dawn. She seemed completely disinterested in what the Doctor was saying. "You fought in some Time War against metal pepper-pot things that shout exterminate, and then zap, no more home planet, and now you're all super traumatized and stuff."

Which was an accurate, if somewhat dismissive summary of a War that had nearly ripped apart the fabric of time and space.

"But this was long before I ever existed," said the Doctor. "Maybe even before the Dark Times. No one knows, really. Well, I say no one. Eternals probably did, although they fled this reality a while back." He took a deep breath and continued. "But, see, these higher dimensional beings knew they'd need something to stop the destruction of the universe. Something with enough power to completely stop and start time across the entire infinity of existence. Can you imagine how much power that is?"

"Yeah," muttered Dawn. "Cool. Whatever." She still didn't seem very interested. Probably thought the Doctor was trying to tell her stories to comfort her while she waited for news about her mom and Donna.

Perhaps easing her into it was a bad idea. Perhaps he should just break it to her all at once. Like ripping off a band-aid — it would sting, but it might be easier to handle than in little tiny chunks.

"Thing is, that power source," the Doctor said, "it was broken into segments. And one of those segments is—"

And that was when it happened.

A feeling like the Doctor's insides were being all tangled together into a knot and then yanked straight again, with sudden force. As if time were shifting around him, like sand seeping through a sieve. The world froze and wavered, just for an instant. And the next thing the Doctor knew…

He was in the TARDIS. At the central console. His hand about to type in the spacio-temporal coordinates.

"…really, she didn't deserve him," Donna continued, legs crossed, sitting on the jumpseat in the TARDIS console room. "Great big handsome bloke like him with a skinny crying little nothing from…" She trailed off, as she noticed the Doctor. "Oi, what's gotten into you?"

The Doctor realized he was staring at her.

He remembered this bit. It had happened before — all of it. Donna on the jumpseat, him at the controls, the TARDIS in flight. They'd lived through this moment in time before, both of them. This was the moment before the Doctor had plugged in the coordinates for Sunnydale. This was the moment before the Doctor had set in motion the events that led to Donna's near-death. They had zipped back in their own personal timelines.

And Donna was fine.

The Doctor took his hand away from the spacio-temporal coordinate panel. Then he ran over and swooped Donna into a great big hug. Because this was Donna, Donna Noble, and she was alive! Unharmed, chatty as ever, and perfectly, wonderfully alive!

Donna seemed a little taken aback by the Doctor's behavior. She pushed him away.

"Oi!" she said. "What was that for?"

She didn't remember. That was bad. That was a terribly bad sign. That meant that it wasn't a time loop (it hadn't felt like a time loop — the Doctor knew what that felt like, and time hadn't done that), it wasn't anything easily fixable. It was something extra-temporal, some part of the universe compensating for a perilous near-collapse.

Something having to do with Dawn Summers, and the Key to Time. No, something about the Doctor's _telling_ Dawn that she was the Key — that was the event that had triggered it.

"Is something wrong, Spaceman?" she asked.

Yes. There was something wrong. There was everything wrong. Time had just rewritten itself and pushed them out, the universe had very nearly collapsed, and there was still a seventh segment to the Key to Time that the Doctor realized (more and more) he didn't have the heart to get rid of. Time and space could collapse, the universe could be ripped apart, the time vortex could completely destabilize — or even shatter.

But Donna was okay.

"No," he answered. And he meant it.

* * *

Buffy blinked. That was weird. It had felt like… a shudder crossing her spine. No, a shudder crossing the spine of the entire world.

She looked over, and found Riley, loitering a little ways away. She ran over and took his hand.

They needed to find Dawn. Find out about Mom.

(Why were they just waiting around here, anyways?)

As Buffy raced out of the waiting room with Riley, she thought she could hear an English sounding voice, behind her, asking about something called a "Police Box." But Buffy didn't know or care what that was.

She raced over to her sister.

It was shortly thereafter that Buffy discovered what the Initiative had really done to Riley — that Riley was sick, dying even, and his mind was twisted in a way she didn't understand.

Even as Buffy learned this, she had an odd feeling of déjà vu. Like she'd done this all before. Except… she hadn't. Of course not. That would be stupid. None of this had happened before. And nothing was fundamentally wrong with the world, either. As soon as her mom was out of the hospital, and Riley got that operation to fix what the Initiative had done, everything would be fine.

(So why did Buffy keep feeling like something was missing?)

* * *

By the end of the day, Riley had been fixed and patched up, whatever the Initiative had done to him had been reversed, and he was well on his way to being his normal self again.

Buffy had gotten him back home, tucked in, and then given him a good night kiss. She had wanted to stay with him, but she needed to make sure things were all right at home. So she walked back home, hands in her pockets, trying to process everything that had happened that day.

Buffy nearly ran into the blond girl walking the other way.

"Sorry," said Buffy.

The blond girl looked at her. Buffy thought there was something weird about this girl. Like… she should be feeling something towards her. But once again, nothing.

"Buffy?" the girl said. "Buffy Summers?" It was that same voice from earlier, back in the hospital. An English accent — broader than Giles', but still decidedly English. The girl's hazel eyes studied Buffy, curiously. "That's you, yeah?"

"Yeah…" said Buffy. "How did you…?"

"You beat up Jimmy Stone," the girl said. "Amongst other things. Only… not yet. It's a little complicated." She gave a friendly smile. "I'm Rose."

"Hi," said Buffy.

Rose looked around, and gave a small sigh. "I'd better get going," she said. "I'm on a deadline, and it looks like he isn't here."

"Who isn't?" asked Buffy.

"The Doctor," Rose said, as she faded into the air.

Buffy stared at the spot where Rose had once been. She knew she should be worried about Rose, about the disappearing thing, about all of it. But her brain just fixated on that last phrase that Rose had given her — the Doctor. As if it were so very, very important, even if she couldn't quite figure out why.

She shrugged it off, deciding to mention it to Giles, the next day. It was probably nothing. She was just a little frazzled by everything else. And… and… wait, what had just happened? She'd been… talking to someone, hadn't she? No, she hadn't. She'd never been talking to anyone.

Buffy went home.

There was a bright red notebook on her desk, in the spot she'd once kept her diary. One she didn't remember ever buying. The pages looked worn, bent, as if she'd poured through them over and over again. She flipped through it.

Every single page was blank.


	6. Home, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Buffy learns what Dawn really is, she realizes the Doctor was trying to kill Dawn, earlier that year, and confronts him. Meanwhile, Glory discovers there's a Time Lord still alive. One who _has_ , actually, managed to defeat a god before. (Remember Sutekh?)

The Doctor stepped out into the fresh morning air. "Sunnydale!" he said, stretching, his eyes closed. "October, 2000. Brilliant time of year. Leaves on the trees, nip in the air, and…"

Smack!

The Doctor blinked, staring down at the angry blond girl who'd just slapped him. She now had her arms crossed, her foot tapping, impatiently, on the ground.

"Serves you right, mate," said Donna, stepping out beside him, in the doorway of the TARDIS. "What'd you do this time?"

The Doctor cradled his cheek, still staring at Buffy. "What was that for?" he cried.

Buffy turned to Donna, a pasted-on smile on her face. "Donna," she said, in a far-too-sugary voice. "Would you please go watch my sister while I have a talk with your travelling companion?" Her voice gained a hard edge at the end.

Donna crossed her arms. "Oh, no," she said. "I don't care if you are the bloomin' 'Slayer'. If you think I'm just going to walk away and let you—"

"Donna," said the Doctor, slipping her the psychic paper, his voice soft and resigned. "It's all right. Go."

"Listen, Time Boy," Donna snapped. "I'm not just—"

"Donna," said the Doctor, again, a little more sternly.

Donna met his eyes, and finally worked out why Buffy was mad at him, exactly what Buffy was going to do to him, and exactly why he was going to let her do it. And she knew she had to leave him. Because — well, he really did deserve it.

Donna turned to Buffy. "You kill him," she warned, "and you deal with me. Got that?"

Buffy gave her a small nod. Donna clutched the psychic paper, and walked towards Buffy's house. She could already see Dawn waiting for her, looking a bit confused. Dawn stared at the Doctor and Buffy.

"What's going on?" Dawn asked Donna.

"Lover's spat," said Donna. She waved the psychic paper at Dawn. "Come on, we're going shopping."


	7. Home, Part II

Dawn and Donna hadn't even gone around the block, yet, before Buffy grabbed the Doctor by the arm, dragged him into the TARDIS, and slammed the doors shut behind her. She turned on him, her eyes boring him into the coral wall of his ship.

She knew.

The Doctor didn't know how she'd discovered the truth, or what she'd do to Dawn now that she knew, but he'd always known what she'd do to him. If she was kind, perhaps she'd let him regenerate. But he wasn't holding out any hope.

(He'd already programmed the TARDIS to take Donna home, should anything happen to him. He'd been preparing himself for this ever since he'd first discovered Dawn.)

"My sister," said Buffy, her voice no longer disguising any of the anger she was venting towards him. She strode up to him, her eyes fixed on his, her body tensed for the upcoming fight. "My little sister!"

She flew at him, knocking him to the ground, and he let himself fall. The metal grating of the TARDIS clanged beneath his weight.

"Did you know?" Buffy demanded. "When you wanted to kill her, did you know she was an innocent child? Did you know how much I loved her?"

Why did she bother asking? She knew the answer as much as he did.

"Yes," the Doctor told her.

Buffy started pacing the console room, her footsteps growing louder and angrier against the grating. "An innocent kid, who knows nothing about any of this, and you were going to kill her just for being born! What happened to, 'no one ever asked them if they wanted to be born like that'? What happened to all that niceness and compassion and forgiveness? You think vampires deserve a chance but my sister doesn't get one at all? What the hell happened to you?"

The Doctor wished she'd just start beating him up already.

"You heartless jerk!" Buffy shouted, advancing towards him. "You were planning to murder my own sister, and you just sat there, in my house, flirting and joking and playing around like none of it mattered! You weren't even planning to stick around, afterwards, were you? Just kill her, and run away! Just like you always do!"

"You're right," the Doctor told her. "I was."

As he hoped, his words seemed to send that spark of anger and rage running through her, and she kicked him into the side of the TARDIS. Not — the Doctor was annoyed to realize — anywhere close to as hard as she could kick him. In fact, for her, it was more like a nudge.

"I'm supposed to be guarding the human race against threats!" Buffy yelled. "So when did you become a threat? Is this what you think of us humans, really? That we're all cool and your favorite species and everything, but the first hint of trouble, and we're all expendable? As long as your idea of reality matches with the world, you're okay, but the moment that doesn't happen, that's when you go all killy? Are we all just some pawns in your cosmic chess game?"

The Doctor couldn't meet her eyes.

"You know what sucks most about this?" Buffy said. "I trusted you. I would have trusted you with anything. Everything! And you shoved that trust in my face like it was nothing! I'd have given my life for you — and I almost did! More times than you can count! Does that mean nothing?"

Same voice. Same inflection. Same accusations. The Doctor knew he should never have come back to Sunnydale. They would always end like this. It was what happened with Elizabeth, and it was what would happen with Buffy.

"When you said you were going to kill someone I knew, I didn't even consider that it was a member of my family!" Buffy shouted. "That possibility never even occurred to me. Because that was so completely beyond the pail, I assumed you'd never, ever even think of it!" She stood in front of him, his body still lying on the floor, her hands bunched into fists. "Say something!" she shouted.

"You're right," said the Doctor. "That's all you humans are to me. Nothing. Just a plaything for my amusement, something I can discard at a whim." He looked straight at her. "And I did want to kill your sister. I didn't kill her, and that was wrong. I should have gone through with it."

There it was. Just what he'd wanted. That complete and utter hatred towards him — a hatred dwarfed only by his own self-loathing — and he waited for her to unsheathe some weapon, and kill him. Or beat him to within an inch of his life. Or something of that sort.

The blows never came.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked, her voice still edgy.

"I'm telling you—"

"You're trying to make me beat you up," Buffy corrected. She sank down to the floor, a few feet away from him, still too angry to even look at him, her back to the TARDIS wall. "You _want_ me to beat you up." She took a long, shaky breath, one still filled with fire and venom, but without that spark that she'd had before. "You've said this to yourself a thousand times, haven't you?"

The Doctor didn't answer. This wasn't the way that things were supposed to happen. It wasn't what Elizabeth had done, last time.

"You know I hate the whole self-loathing thing you have going on," said Buffy. She perched her arms on her knees. "It makes you really hard to hate. Even when you do stuff that's terrible."

"I know a number of people who'd disagree with you on that," said the Doctor.

"Did Donna know?"

"She was trying to stop me," said the Doctor. "She's suffered too much for this already. Do whatever you want to me, but please, let Donna go."

"I was never going to do anything to Donna," said Buffy. She looked over at him, that terrible anger still in her eyes, but less so. "It's sobering to realize that the worst thing I could do to you is _not_ beat you up. Let you live with it."

"I meant what I said," insisted the Doctor. "I should have killed your sister. I didn't, and that was wrong. One of the most heinous crimes I could commit."

"You haven't looked me in the eye once since you started talking like that," said Buffy.

The Doctor didn't answer.

Buffy sighed. "I wasn't going to kill you," she said. "Don't go all soap-opera on me. I mainly just wanted to shout at you. A lot." She glanced over at him. "I love her, you know. I know the memories and stuff are all implanted, but I really love her."

"You remember it," said the Doctor. "That makes it real."

"You don't," said Buffy. "I have all these memories of Future-You running around with Dawn, but… those are all fabricated. You never did any of those things. If I hopped into your time machine, and went back to last year, Dawn wouldn't exist."

"That doesn't make her not real," said the Doctor.

Buffy buried her face in her hands. "I don't know whether to get really mad at you for saying that, or really happy," she confessed. "You knew she was real, even though you still were going to kill her. But you still want me to feel better about this whole thing."

"I'm sorry," said the Doctor, sitting up. He still didn't venture near her. "I told you that you shouldn't trust me."

"I wanted to," said Buffy. She looked over at the Doctor. "Whatever Dawn is, it's really bad, isn't it? You'd never have even thought about something like that if it wasn't really bad."

"Dawn isn't anything important," said the Doctor.

"You don't have to play stupid with me," said Buffy. "I know she's the Key. I don't get what that is, but I get that you're really worried about it. And if you're really worried about it, then it's really bad."

"The Key doesn't exist," the Doctor told her.

"Um, yeah, it does," said Buffy. "And it's my sister."

"It's not… listen, Elizabeth," said the Doctor. "It's better if you don't know anything."

"Oh, yeah, thanks," said Buffy. "That's great. I am so glad that you were trying to kill my sister to suppress knowledge. That makes me feel so much better!"

The Doctor didn't answer.

Buffy bit back her bitterness. "I'm done with the rage thing," she said. "But… I just have to know. Are you still planning to kill her?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me," Buffy warned.

"I'm not," said the Doctor. "I _should_ , but… to be honest, I don't think I can."

The Doctor could feel Buffy's eyes staring at him, trying to work him out. He still didn't look at her. A part of him still wanted, so much, for her to hate him for what he'd done. Finally, finally, he'd actually been guilty of the crime Elizabeth had kept accusing him of in the other timeline — killing her family members — and the Doctor wanted to get what he deserved for it.

Buffy scooted over, and put her arms around him, hugging him to her. "Thanks," she said. "For saving her life."

And the Doctor couldn't decide whether she was being unbearably kind or unbearably cruel doing something like that.

"Just… if you ever hurt my sister in any way," Buffy warned, "I will see to it, personally, that you come down with a severe case of decapitation. You got that?"

"Yes."

He knew. He'd always known. He'd been fully prepared to pay the price. Even if it looked like Buffy wasn't willing to demand it, now.

Buffy stood up, and hoisted the Doctor to his feet. Then she pulled her hair back behind her shoulders, and gave him a pointed look. "So. Key thing. Explain."

"Sorry?"

"You didn't think I just came in here to beat you up?" said Buffy. "You're obviously the only person around who actually knows what it is I'm trying to protect. I'm here to find out what the deal is."

"The Key doesn't exist."

Buffy crossed her arms. "I'm not beating you up for information," she said. "So you might as well tell me."

"I did tell you," said the Doctor. "The Key doesn't exist. It was destroyed during the War. Anything you might have discovered or heard or…" He frowned. "How _did_ you work it out, at any rate?"

"Did a spell, found a monk," said Buffy. "How'd you work it out? Your toaster exploded."

"I knew you didn't have a sister," the Doctor told her. Which was at least part true, although the green glowing energy around Dawn did make it a wee bit difficult to miss. Then he remembered that he was supposed to be convincing her that the Key never existed at all. "I mean, you always had a sister, and the Key doesn't exist, and… I've completely botched this up, haven't I?"

"You botched it up before you started," Buffy agreed.

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "Monk," he muttered. Must be from that Order of Dagon he'd heard about, way long ago. Brilliant. One more person he'd have to keep quiet about this. He glanced back at Buffy. "Anyone else you've told?"

"Giles, and that's it," said Buffy.

"And the universe didn't go all wibbly when you told him?" asked the Doctor. "Or when you, yourself, found out?"

"Wibbly?" asked Buffy. "Doctor, stop trying to be all cute and adorably charming and stuff! This is serious. That monk told me they sent the Key to _me_ , specifically, because they wanted me to protect it. So what is it?"

"It's really better if you don't know," said the Doctor.

"Okay, here's the thing I don't get," said Buffy. "I know you're stupidly stubborn about this Key thing because you got interrogated during the War. But… I'm the Slayer! Couldn't you have at least given me a heads up or something?"

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. He knew exactly why he hadn't told Buffy. The Key was his responsibility, and every time he'd let one of his friends handle something that was his responsibility, it always led to tragedy. Martha had travelled the world for him, during the Year that Never Was, and it had changed her, altered her. Destroyed not just her life, but the lives of every single member of her family. Adric, trying to outsmart the Cybermen. Romana, fighting the Daleks.

Susan…

"I was going to tell Dawn," the Doctor confessed.

"You were going to tell my sister, and not mention it to me?" Buffy cried.

The Doctor wasn't exactly sure why Buffy was so upset about this. It seemed the logical thing to do. Dawn was the dangerous one — she should know that she had a responsibility to the world and the universe.

"Didn't work, at any rate," said the Doctor. "Universal temporal readjustment."

"Whazza whozza what?"

"That means that, by telling Dawn what she was, I nearly collapsed the universe," the Doctor explained. "So time pushed me out. Rewrote itself as if I never existed at all. Universe preventing its own death. Bit like antibodies in the bloodstream. I was a germ, universe got rid of me."

Buffy blinked. And the Doctor could see the moment when that entire thing came back to Buffy. When she remembered all of it. It was as if a sudden weight had crashed across her face. Horror and shock sprung into her eyes, and she stared at the Doctor, as if she wanted to sweep him into a great big hug.

Then she remembered she was still sort of mad at him, and hid all that away inside herself.

"Okay, so tell me what you know about the Key," said Buffy.

"It doesn't exist. That's all you need to know."

"Look, I'm really glad you're all with the stoic," said Buffy, "because it makes my life easier in terms of keeping it a secret. But that woman really wanted to get her hands on it, and if she figures out that I'm—"

The Doctor's head shot up. "What?"

"Woman?" Buffy said. "After the Key? Super strong, serious attitude problem? She's pretty sure it exists, and she wants it more than anything."

Now the Doctor knew he was in deep, deep trouble.

* * *

"Okay, here's what I want to know," said Dawn to Donna, as they walked through the mall. "You got shot, last time you were here. I remember. But then, it was like… none of it happened."

"Don't look at me," said Donna. "I didn't know the first thing about it until I stepped out of the TARDIS. All I knew was that Spaceman seemed really keen to leave me behind."

"So… none of us remembered," said Dawn. "Except for him? Is that some sort of Time Lord superpower or something?"

"Beats me," said Donna. "I just live for the psychic paper." She beat the wallet against her hand, subconsciously, trying to stop her hands from shaking, trying to keep the worry out of her face. Then her eyes fixed on a store down at the other end of the mall. "Oh, we've got to check that one out!" she cried, nearly dragging Dawn along behind her.

From behind a potted fern, a short, wrinkly faced Minion peered out at them. "Time Lord," he muttered.


	8. Home, Part III

"The Key to Time is an energy source," the Doctor explained. "A terribly powerful energy source. One with the power and strength to put time on pause across the entire universe, all at once. It can completely shatter this reality and rebuild it from scratch. You heard this once before, even if you don't remember."

Buffy could vaguely remember. She had heard this before. Back when she'd first met the Doctor.

"You… said whatever was locked away was worse than the First," she recalled. "Worse than the original evil in the universe."

"It is," said the Doctor.

And Buffy knew it had to be that bad. Because the Doctor wouldn't even _consider_ killing innocent people if it was anything less.

"But that's the Key as a whole," the Doctor continued. "Thing is, the ancient powers who made the Key knew how powerful it was. So they split it apart into six segments, and scattered them across time and space. Each segment could look like anything, or anyone."

"And Dawn is a segment," said Buffy.

"Dawn is the seventh segment," the Doctor explained.

Buffy blinked. "I thought…"

"There are only supposed to be six segments," the Doctor confirmed. "But there was an accident. The segment of the Key to Time that resided on Earth — the Great Seal of Diplos — was kept in a hyperspacial dimension. It bled energy from the Key back onto the planet. When I removed the segment, the energy remained."

"That monk told me the Key was energy," said Buffy.

"But each segment has its own special powers," the Doctor said. "The Great Seal of Diplos gave its wielders the power of matter transmutation — the ability to bend reality, turn energy into something concrete."

"Dawn."

"Yes," said the Doctor. He gave a small sigh. "The Key was supposed to have been destroyed, and if it had been, there would never have been enough energy left to do this. Except… I needed it. So I fixed it — in secret, mind you — retrieved it, then used it."

Ah, now Buffy was starting to understand the denial. Because if everyone else thought the Key was destroyed, then the safest thing for the Doctor to do was confirm their suspicions. Make sure no one knew it hadn't been.

"After that," said the Doctor, "it became my job to make sure the Key was safe."

"Okay, so now that crazy-punch-holes-through-concrete-walls-lady is after it, you can just use your TARDIS to take Dawn somewhere safe," Buffy said. "Somewhere far away from here. Another planet or another time or something."

"Dawn is the seventh segment of a six segment Key," said the Doctor. "I've checked the readings, and she's stable here. But if she ever leaves this solar system — or even just enters the vortex — bad things will happen."

"What kind of bad things?" Buffy asked.

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Best case scenario? Holes and cracks in the void, causing misplaced or temporally important persons to fall through from other universes. Completely randomly, mind you, and at completely unrelated times. You might not notice, and I might not notice, but at some point in the future, pop! Some other you might appear, out of thin air, completely randomly."

"That's not so bad," said Buffy.

"Depends on the person you're displacing," said the Doctor.

Buffy thought of all the alternate universe versions of people that could pop up in her life, and decided that… on second thought… she really didn't want that to happen. Get an Evil Angel in there, or a transformed-Mayor, or even a First Evil who had an actual physical form and substance — yeah, that could be really, really bad.

"And the worst case scenario?" Buffy asked.

"The energy Dawn is carrying will destabilize the Lock," said the Doctor. "And if that happens, the universe will end. Or… worse." He sighed. "Believe me, Elizabeth, Dawn _can't_ travel through time. She _can't_ travel more than one parsec through space. She has to stay here and now."

"That's why you've been coming back so often," said Buffy. "You couldn't just take her with you."

"It was Donna's idea," the Doctor confessed. "Dropping in to check up on you. Although… as the date-time marker draws closer, I might have to stay longer." He made a face. "Living in real time. That's rubbish."

"What date-time marker?" asked Buffy.

"Ah. You don't know about that?" The Doctor ran over to the central console, and tapped at a few buttons. Then he waved Buffy over to the monitor.

Buffy looked at it. There, on the monitor, was a reading for "Dawn Summers." Age, weight, height, projected timeline, species, everything.

"It… doesn't say anything about her being the Key," Buffy realized.

"The TARDIS scanners can't pick it up," the Doctor explained. "Not when it's in human form. Neither can any other technology. Even the most sophisticated technology wouldn't be able to trace it based on the energy alone. It's impossible."

"But I worked it out," said Buffy. "I did a spell."

"To see the traces of what the monks did to create it, yes?"

"Yeah."

"That's what I did, as well," said the Doctor. "At least, before I realized I could…" His face fell, and for a second, he looked terribly, terribly lonely. Then he perked up. "But, yes! Normally, if there hadn't been all this do-hickey about creating another segment, would have been completely untraceable. Except the Time Lords figured out a way."

"What way?"

The Doctor turned off the monitor. "Every segment has a distinctive time signature," the Doctor explained. "One point in space and time when everything converges, all the patterns overlap, and the segment's powers can be activated in a massive, universe-altering way. That point in time and space is traceable. That's how we did it."

"But you said if Dawn was ever activated…"

"The universe would collapse," said the Doctor. "And that's if we're lucky. If we're unlucky… it could be far, far worse." He looked over at Buffy. "Well, that about wraps it up for me. Your turn. What about this woman?"

"I don't know that much," Buffy confessed. "Just… there's this woman. Really, really strong. She's after the Key. She captured this monk, and she was torturing him for answers. And she's got serious attitude issues."

"Human?" asked the Doctor.

"Not punching like that she isn't," said Buffy.

"But humanoid," the Doctor said.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "She's sort of… curly blond hair, gray eyes, a little taller than me. The monk called her… the abomination."

"Abomination?" asked the Doctor. He winced. "Ooh, that's bad."

"Why?" asked Buffy. "What is she?"

"Could be anything!" said the Doctor. "It's a title, often used by the Daleks, given to things that were absolutely despicable, even by their standards."

"So… whoever this is… she's worse than Daleks," Buffy realized. "And she wants the Key."

The Doctor and Buffy both looked at each other for a moment. "Donna," they said, together, and started to run.

* * *

"Brave, glorious Glorificus!" cried one of the minions. "We beseech your grace, honor us with your splendor, shine down your favor—"

"Yeah, what is it?" asked Glory, as she touched up her makeup in the mirror.

"We have reason to believe that there is someone else after the Key!" the minion said. "Someone… dangerous."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Glory. She rolled the tube of lipstick in her hand closed, and capped it. Then she turned to face the minion. "What sort of dangerous?"

The minions all looked at one another.

"We believe," ventured one, "he is a Time Lord."

Glory stared at them. "A Time Lord?"

The minions all nodded.

Glory started laughing. Then laughed harder. She collapsed forwards, grabbing one of the minions towards her. "A Time Lord?" she asked, through laughter. "A Time Lord?" She threw the minion across the room, as she got to her feet, her laughter dying away and morphing into a surge of anger. "You going to tell me the Easter Bunny's after this thing, too? Leprechauns? Dragons?" She kicked the leg of the vanity table, and it came crashing down to the ground. "I want _real_ threats, you got that? _Real_ problems! I don't want to hear these made up stories about made up dangers trying to steal my very real Key!"

"Yes, yes, yes, your holy Glorificus!" the minions pleaded. "Whatever your holy Glorificus wants!"

"But… the red-haired lady confirmed that he is a Time Lord," the minion she had thrown across the room protested. "And the girl seemed to agree."

"Anyone can _say_ they're a Time Lord," said Glory. "Have you heard the number of humans who call themselves gods? Trust me, the Time Lords are dead, gone, and wiped out of the universe." She ran over to the minion, and picked him up by the ear. "So. Stop picking up on fairy tales. And find me my Key!"

"But… but your magnificent wonderful glorious grace, we saw him," one of the other minions protested. "We saw him appear out of the air, in a magic, travelling blue box."

"A blue…" Glory trailed off, her face turning into a frown. "Oh." She dropped the minion onto the ground, and sat down on the bright red sofa in the center of the room. "Oh."

"Your magnificence?" the minion asked.

Glory held up a hand. "Shut up, I'm thinking." She mulled it over in her mind. "So. He survived, huh?"

"We… we didn't hear a name," the minion on the floor volunteered. "But the red haired lady did call him… Spaceman."

Glory sighed. "You morons, that's not his name! He calls himself 'Doctor.'" She lounged on the couch. "You don't even remember the Time War, do you? Tiny little brains like yours. I bet you barely understand what a Time Lord is."

The minions looked at one another, clearly not sure exactly how to best answer this in a way that would make them sound competent enough for Glory not to kill them straight out, but still be humble and groveling at the same time.

"I couldn't take part, of course," said Glory, with a sigh. "Stuck here, on Earth. In exile. While the rest of the universe launched itself into a War that every Hell god worth its salt participated in. A War across realities, across all of time and space. Oh, I wanted in on that! All that death and destruction and chaos? Makes me a little tingly just thinking about it."

"What a terrible, horrible, ghastly thing that you could not take part," the minions said. "You would certainly have put all others to shame."

"Yes, I would, wouldn't I?" asked Glory, musing on it. "The Time Lords might have thought they were gods, but… oh, if they met me, I'd have shown them. I would have been amazing. I should have been amazing." Her elated imaginings dropped away, as she remembered the reality of her situation.

"We shall find this Time Lord that thinks himself so high above your amazing worshipfulness," said the minions. "And we promise, we shall dispose of him for you."

"You idiots," said Glory. "I don't want him disposed of. I want him here. Bound hand and foot — I'm not a fool like Sutekh." She thought a moment. "And don't tell him my name. Time Lords are supposed to be smart. Let's see if he can work it out."

"At once, your wondrousness!" said the minions.

She gave a small grin. Because she'd figured something out. Something very important. A Time Lord — a race that never existed. From a planet that never existed. From a time that had been erased from the universe. That made this particular Time Lord completely outside of reality. And Glory knew what that meant.

The Doctor hadn't come to Sunnydale to find her Key.

He'd already found it.

* * *

"Donna!" cried the Doctor. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Having fun?"

Donna shoved her armload of shopping bags into the Doctor's hands, and turned back to Dawn. "We've been keeping busy."

"We've been trying to figure out why none of us remembered Donna getting shot," said Dawn. "I vote super-secret-magic-thing."

"Oi, I say Spaceman did something clever," said Donna. "So what was it?"

The Doctor blinked. "Not… entirely sure, really," he said. "Odd sort of temporal disturbance. No idea what could have caused it."

"Oh, it's like a time loop or something, right?" said Dawn. "And you're going all Groundhog Day and stuff."

The Doctor made a face. "Nah," he said. "Wrong taste in the air for a time loop. And, well, any rate, didn't wind up back where we'd started, did we?" He glanced over at Buffy, noticing the troubled look on her face. "You… all right?"

Buffy just kept staring ahead, the horror evident in her eyes.

Dawn went over to her. "Buffy?"

Buffy turned to Dawn, and snapped herself out of it. "Yeah, sorry, it's just sunk in that… I forgot. All of it. Even…" She looked over at the Doctor. "How could I forget something like that?"

"Well, human psyche being what it is, it's hardly surprising," said the Doctor. "Minds only hold one timeline at once. Start breaking that timeline apart, and you wind up losing track of what's real, and what's not."

"Riley almost shot you," Buffy whispered. "He shot Donna."

"No, he didn't," the Doctor insisted. "Every part of that incident, everything that happened got wiped out. Donna is fine. Perfectly fine." He leaned in a little closer. "Besides," he said, so softly that it was barely audible, "he had a good reason. You might have done the same."

"You know, Riley was kind of crazy and nearly dying at the time," Dawn volunteered.

"That doesn't mean he can just go around shooting people!" Donna protested. "And it certainly doesn't mean he's allowed to tie up Skinny, there."

"Doctor," said Buffy, "this… isn't the first bad thing that Riley's done to you. I mean, I know it's all in your future, and I know future-future you said it was ultimately for the best, but… I remember it. And it was really bad."

The Doctor's eyes darkened. "What sort of horrible thing?" he asked. "Destroying the world? Killing my companions? Or just slaughtering any innocent person he could—"

"No, it wasn't anything like that," said Buffy. "It was just… you know. Torture and stuff. And it wasn't even really Riley who tortured you, it was just—"

"But Riley didn't hurt anyone else?" the Doctor asked.

Buffy sighed. "No," she admitted.

The Doctor grinned. "Well, then, probably doesn't matter," said the Doctor. "Particularly if it winds up being for the best. I'll deal with all that when it happens to me."

"But it's not just that!" said Buffy. "Doctor, this wasn't just a drugged out thing or a nearly dying thing. Riley's been trying to work out how to kill you for a while."

"Says the woman who tried to drive a sword through my head the first time she saw me," said the Doctor, with a wink.

That look of horror still lingered on Buffy's face. "Yeah, but… I thought you were evil, and... I didn't even know you!" Buffy said. "Riley… he didn't want to kill you the day he met you. He waited until he got to know you. He's seen you saving the world, he's seen you saving my life, and he still…" She shivered.

"Oi!" said Donna. "This Riley bloke. I want a word with him."

"Go ahead," said Dawn. "He's right over there."

Donna snapped her head to look where Dawn was pointing, at the blond haired, blue eyed man walking towards them. The Doctor, it seemed, was loaded down by enough shopping bags that he wasn't obviously visible from a far ways away. Either that, or Riley had some nerve coming over there.

Donna marched right up to Riley, her hands clenched by her sides, her red hair streaming behind her with every step. And the moment she got close enough, she smacked him across the face.

Riley blinked at her, confused.

"You shot me!" Donna shouted at him.

It was obvious when the memory came back to Riley, because everything about him changed. He went tense, his jaw dropped, and he stared at Donna in horror.

"Oh, God, I'm… I'm so sorry!" Riley protested.

"Yeah?" said Donna, pointing her finger in his face. "Well, let me tell you something, Sunshine. You can't just shoot people and expect to get away with it. And you can't just tie someone up and shoot their best mate just because Skinny was getting cozy with your girlfriend!"

The Doctor dumped the shopping bags on Buffy, and ran over. "Donna," he warned. He took her by the arm, and tried to lead her away. "Let's not upset the slightly psychotic boyfriend who carries loaded firearms, yes?"

"Look, I'm really, really sorry," Riley said. "For… all of it. For everything I did to both of you. I was sick. There was something… but I've had it taken care of, and I'm feeling a lot better now. I really, really never meant to hurt… ow!"

This last exclamation was said in response to Donna's second slap.

Buffy dropped the shopping bags in front of Dawn, and ran to help the Doctor restrain a struggling and clearly pissed-off Donna.

"Don't think I'm finished with you!" Donna snapped. "Cause I've been hearing a lot about you. I've heard you've been torturing him, and trying to kill him since the moment you met him. Which means this next slap's long overdue!"

Donna tried to surge towards Riley again, and the Doctor and Buffy just barely managed to restrain her. Slayer strength, it seemed, was no match for a thoroughly angry Donna Noble.

Riley took a nervous step back.

"Oi!" Donna shouted at him. "Don't you dare walk away from me, mate! I don't know what kind of Hollywood Movie you grew up in, but real people don't fantasize about tying up other real people and shooting them in the head!"

"I know," said Riley. "I didn't mean it. I just… lost control." He glanced over at the Doctor. "You understand what that's like."

The Doctor gave Riley a cold, steady glare, then finally managed to tug Donna away from him. He put his hand across Donna's shoulders, and turned her to walk away.

"Hey!" Riley shouted. "You come back here, Doctor! I'm not done with you."

The Doctor didn't say anything.

Dawn, now carrying the shopping bags, took one look at Riley, then darted after the Doctor and Donna. Buffy hesitated, looking between Riley and the group retreating from him.

"Buffy," Riley pleaded.

Buffy swallowed. "My… sister," she said. "I'm sorry, I have to…" She gave a small shrug, then spun around, and raced after the group.

Riley's eyes narrowed, as he watched them leaving the shopping mall. His entire body began to shake with repressed anger. "I'm more a man than you are, Doctor!" he shouted. "And one of these days, I'm going to prove it!"

The Doctor didn't even look back or acknowledge Riley had said anything, as he lead the others out of the shopping mall. The Doctor was done with Riley Finn.

Forever.


	9. Home, Part IV

They were on the way to Buffy's house, and Dawn and Donna, it seemed, had completely moved on from the incident earlier. They were now being their usual noisy, chattering selves, discussing — who even knew? (Those two really did get along surprisingly well.)

The Doctor hadn't said a word since Riley.

Buffy was worried about him. No, actually, she was just worried in general. Because… she'd been intimate with Riley since then. And if she'd remembered, she'd never have done that. Their relationship was falling apart, and she couldn't remember it.

What had the Doctor said? That time had folded him out or something?

And Buffy was worried about herself. Dracula had sensed a terrible darkness inside of her. A darkness she, herself, could feel. And the thing was — what the Doctor had said about Riley ( _you might have done it yourself_ ) had scared her. A lot. Because she really might have. Sure, the Doctor might not consider trying to kill him to be a crime, but Buffy definitely did. And if the Doctor had gone anywhere even remotely past the thinking stage of his plan — if he'd actually pulled a gun on Dawn, or threatened her, or anything — Buffy thought she might have done it.

(Elizabeth had wanted to, hadn't she?)

Buffy hung back a little, so that she walked right beside the Doctor. She gave him a one armed hug. He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Sorry I hit you, earlier," said Buffy.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Actually, that's fine. Completely fine. Deserved a lot worse, really."

"You didn't go through with it, in the end," Buffy pointed out. She nodded over at Donna. "She's a good influence on you."

"Donna Noble," said the Doctor, with a grin of pride. "Absolutely brilliant, she is. And wonderfully human."

Buffy nodded. And she just kept thinking — she'd been prepared to beat the Doctor into a bloody pulp because he'd just _thought_ about killing her sister, and had then gone on to save Dawn's life. But here the Doctor was, and… Donna had been shot — possibly killed — for no reason. By Riley.

And the Doctor had walked right up to Riley and done nothing. No revenge killings, no beating him up, not even a harsh word. Just… nothing.

It wasn't because the Doctor couldn't take Riley in a fight. Buffy knew that the Doctor was a heck of a lot stronger than he looked, and didn't usually even resort to physical attacks to win when fighting against his enemies. If Riley decided to go up against the Doctor in a fight, and the Doctor wasn't doing his passive thing of not-fighting-back, Riley would lose. Big time.

It wasn't because the Doctor didn't care about Donna, either. Buffy knew that. The Doctor and Donna were close — close enough to be siblings.

It wasn't because the Doctor had forgiven Riley — he hadn't, that much was obvious in his eyes.

And it wasn't because he didn't do revenge — she'd seen him when he got really angry at evil creatures, and he could be pretty vicious.

No, the Doctor had had every reason to do something truly terrible to Riley, he just… hadn't. He'd let Riley go, with no further punishment beyond the Doctor's complete dismissal of Riley — as if Riley wasn't even worth his time.

That was true power, Buffy thought. The power to know you could do anything you wanted, and still make the choice not to.

"How do you do that?" asked Buffy.

"Be human?" asked the Doctor. He blew a breath out of his cheeks. "Would have thought you'd know better than me."

"No, I mean… let someone go like that," said Buffy. "You only just met Riley the day he shot Donna. I know what you do to people who threaten your companions. But you just walked away."

"Donna's fine," said the Doctor. "And I'm fine. And really, there are an extraordinary number of people in the universe looking to kill me. For far, far worse reasons. I've gotten used to it."

Trust him to skirt around the issue.

"Doctor," Buffy said. "Riley shot Donna. And you let him go. If it had been me, instead, if it had been Dawn…" she shook her head. "I wish I were more like you."

The Doctor's expression darkened. "Don't."

"Huh?"

"Be human," he told her. "Always strive to be more human."

Buffy was about to question the Doctor on this, when five demons — all with green skin and two rows of spikes along the tops of their heads, and spikes along their jaw — swooped down out of nowhere, and surrounded them. The Doctor dropped the bags onto the ground, and stepped in front of Dawn and Donna, sonic screwdriver in hand.

"You know, I was just saying," the Doctor said to the demons, "no trip to Sunnydale's ever complete unless I've been nearly killed at least once."

Boy, was that ever the truth.

Buffy moved into a fighting stance. "What do you want?" she demanded of them.

"We've been hired out," said the lead demon. "A contract."

"Oh, brilliant!" said the Doctor, grinning. "They're mercenaries."

"Yeah, well, to get to them, you'll have to go through me, first," said Buffy. "And you really, really don't want to do that."

"We don't need to harm any of the others," said the demon. He pointed a spiky finger towards the Doctor. "Just the Time Lord."

Buffy glanced over her shoulder at the Doctor. "You're right. You really can't take two steps without someone wanting to kill you."

"Well, I am a thoroughly obnoxious person," the Doctor said. He went up to her, put a hand on her shoulder, and whispered into her ear, "Get Dawn and Donna out of here. Make sure they're safe. If I'm not back in five hours, tell Donna to run emergency program one on the TARDIS. That'll take her home."

"I'm not…" Buffy trailed off, as she noticed the Doctor's expression. He was afraid, she realized. Afraid that this was a trap, that they were trying to separate Dawn from the Doctor and Buffy. Buffy had to trust that the Doctor would get out of this alive. Because she needed to make sure that Dawn was safe.

And if anything happened to Donna, the Doctor might never forgive her.

Buffy took Dawn and Donna in hand, and tugged them away.

* * *

The Doctor looked back over at the demons. "Right, yes! You want to kill me. Perfectly reasonable. But… if I'm going to die, let me die happy. You're mercenaries, aren't you? Hit men? So, who hired the hit?"

"That does not concern you," said the lead demon.

"Actually, I'd argue it concerns me quite a bit," said the Doctor. "Seeing as I'm the one being killed and all that."

The Doctor began inching back, his eyes darting around to take in his surroundings. The demons followed him, keeping the distance between them constant. Making sure he knew he couldn't get away.

"We cannot violate client confidentiality," the lead demon informed him.

"Aw, go on!" said the Doctor, continuing to inch away. "Who am I going to tell? I'll be dead in a few seconds, anyways."

The demons faltered. Then the lead demon seemed to decide that the Doctor had clearly lived long enough, and gave a feral roar, preparing to slash out at his victim.

But the Doctor was ready, now. He'd noticed his surroundings, noticed the large tree branch that was nearly ready to snap overhead. He had maneuvered the demons into exactly the right position, and with a single buzz of his sonic, the tree branch snapped, and crashed on top of the pursuing demons.

That wouldn't hold them for long.

The Doctor turned, and ran. He could hear the demons, behind him, throwing the branch off of them, could hear the heavy thunk of demon footsteps pursuing him. But he kept running. Down the street, over a fence and through a backyard, trying to lose them.

The demons pursued him with a stubborn determination. And the Doctor was guessing they could run for longer than he could.

The Doctor's ultimate goal was the TARDIS. If he could make it back there, he could dematerialize and rematerialize in Buffy's house, just to make sure that everyone else had gotten away all right. But the TARDIS had materialized on the path that Buffy and the others would take to get back home, and the Doctor wanted these demons as far away from the others as possible.

So he continued to run.

He led them on a merry chase, round the entire town of Sunnydale, carefully avoiding the more populated areas — or, at least, trying to — before, eventually, winding up back at his TARDIS. And… yes! He could see the blue wood just ahead, could see the familiar illuminated windows at her top, and there was no one else nearby, no Buffy or Dawn or Donna, no one he had to worry about. He dug the key out of his pocket as he approached, ready to unlock the door…

That was when a net fell across him.

The Doctor stumbled and fell, as the net wound, tightly, around his body. Ooh, a net constructed of rope using a particularly rare alien fungus, which had landed on Earth long ago and only grew in a very small number of places, which would cling to body heat and attach itself to the nearest living creature.

As if this wasn't bad enough, a bunch of short troll-looking creatures ran out from where they'd been hiding behind his TARDIS, and began tying him tightly with regular ropes, securing him so that he couldn't move if he'd wanted to.

The demons that had been pursuing him slowed, as they noticed the trolls. Ah, so these were the employers. Which didn't exactly answer what these trolls wanted with him, and why they'd changed their minds about wanting to kill him.

"We have fulfilled our contract," the lead demon said.

Ah, so they hadn't changed their minds. They'd been hired to pretend to kill him, so they could separate him from the others, and then let him get captured.

It was actually quite an ingenious plan.

The trolls threw the demons a bag of something, and the lead demon caught it, then marched off.

"Well, that was rather brilliant planning on your parts," said the Doctor. "Have to say, I'm quite impressed. I'm the Doctor, by the way. And you are?"

"We are but specks of dust in the eyes of our wonderful, glorious, splendiferous mistress!" said the minion nearest him. "Tremble, puny mortal, for she desires to speak with you."

"Ah, mistress," said the Doctor. "She wouldn't happen to be blond, terribly angry, incredibly strong, and called 'the Abomination', then, would she?"

One of the minions grabbed the Doctor by his tie, hoisting him up and nearly choking him. "You will honor our mistress!" he snapped. "Praise her! Worship her! Or she will crush you like an ant."

"Oh, so she's one of those sorts," said the Doctor. He surveyed the minions, carefully. "You certain she's quite as wonderful as all that? You all look a wee bit bruised and beaten. I'm going to guess she isn't treating you nearly as well as you deserve."

"We are nothing next to her," said another minion. "We live only to serve her worshipfulness."

"Bet the hours aren't so good," said the Doctor. "And, well, compensation must be a nightmare. And as for the retirement package — needless to say, there isn't one, is there?" He grinned at them. "Sounds like a bit of a rubbish job to me."

"And who are you to doubt the might and strength of she who we serve?" the minion holding the Doctor by his tie demanded.

"I'm the Doctor," said the Doctor. "And I'm the best friend you'll ever have. Because I'm the one person who can give you a better life."

"Our lives are perfect as they are!" another minion put in. "What more perfection could we want, beyond serving she who gives our lives meaning?"

"You're frightened of her," the Doctor said. "I understand that. She's made you feel as if you are beneath her, as if your lives are nothing. But think about yourselves as individuals. As people. Real, honest people who matter. Are you happy? Truly happy? Is this the life you really want? For yourselves, your loved ones, your children? Or would you rather be free to choose for yourselves, free to think for yourselves? Because I can give you that. If you'll let me, I will help you."

The minion holding the Doctor dropped him, and the Doctor gave an "oomph" as he thudded back against the ground.

The other minions hesitated, looking at one another, as if considering the Doctor's words.

"Her temper… is one of her divine qualities," one of the minions insisted, a little too defensively. "It is of no importance how she treats us as individuals."

"And we have all the freedom we need," another agreed. "We are free to completely obey our mistress in every way. There… is no other freedom worth having."

There was a long, extended silence.

Then, a smaller minion ventured, "There isn't, right?"

"You fools!" shouted the minion closest to the Doctor. "This puny mortal knows nothing of who we serve. Why would we listen to this… creature, when our mistress could crush even him so easily in a matter of seconds?"

"I could take you somewhere," the Doctor offered. "All of you. I could bring you to a planet, far away from here, somewhere you can be free. Somewhere she'll never find you. You can live out your days in peace and happiness, never again being afraid or oppressed. I promise, I can help you."

The minions looked at one another, their devotion slipping just a hair, as the implications of the Doctor's offer sunk in. As the word 'freedom' seemed to become that much more tangible to them.

"Let me help you," the Doctor said.

He probably should have expected what came next.

The minion who'd grabbed him by the tie, before, took out a gag and shoved it into the Doctor's mouth.

"The Time Lord lies!" the minion told his fellows. "There is no place in existence that her magnificence could not find us. If we go against her, if we even consider, she will destroy us completely. Her glorious splendiferousness knows all, sees all. She will sense any betrayal, and crush it completely. Without her, we are nothing. Without her, we have no meaning, no purpose."

The other minions blinked, and every little speck of hesitation was washed away in an instant. Their previous worshipful faces returned, as they decided that the Doctor's words were folly, and dragged him away. The Doctor wished he could negate their fears, appeal to them once more, but for now, it seemed, the appeal was over. He'd lost.

But not for long.

* * *

It hadn't fully clicked until Buffy had been talking to the Doctor in his TARDIS, discussing Dawn. Which was weird, because she should have known right away. That envelope the Doctor had left her, just before he died — the one with the TARDIS key — had said that when dawn came, she'd know what to do.

_A key isn't always a key._

And when she'd opened that envelope, Dawn had been racing around, annoying her and being completely obnoxious, while Buffy had been in grief. And Dawn kept trying to take the envelope out of Buffy's hands, and kept making fun of how Buffy was totally in love with the Doctor, and this was some love token sort of thing, and Buffy had shouted at her to shut up, and then stormed off to her room. Except… she hadn't. Because Dawn hadn't existed, yet. Another implanted memory.

Buffy left her sister and Donna downstairs, in the living room, then dug the envelope out from beneath her pillow, examining the writing on the outside. The Doctor must have given her this just before Dawn had been created. The closest he could get to Dawn without crossing his own timeline.

Buffy took the TARDIS key out of the envelope. She'd been so mad at him, when she'd first found out what Dawn really was, and what the Doctor had tried to do to her. Buffy had been so angry at him, even just earlier today. But she'd gotten so mixed up between real and made-up monk-things, she couldn't remember that this envelope had been real. But… it was real. Must have been. She could tell, from the note alone. This envelope had always existed, even before Dawn had.

Buffy went downstairs, where Donna began, once more, shouting at her about leaving the Doctor behind, despite the fact that Buffy had explained this to Donna a thousand times. Dawn had managed to calm Donna considerably, but Donna was still pretty pissed off.

Buffy took Dawn aside, and gave her the TARDIS key.

"The Doctor wants you to have this," said Buffy to her sister. "He said to make sure you wear it from the moment a third of the world goes up to the rooftops, to the moment that the Prime Minister in the skies dies. He says it'll keep you safe."

"Uh-huh," said Dawn, putting the key around her neck. "And this has nothing to do with you being all over-protective of me and stuff, right?"

Donna frowned. "Hang on a sec," she said. "Prime Minister in the skies? I think I remember that."

Buffy changed the topic, as fast as she could. She didn't want to process what this meant. Didn't want to think about it.

Because if Donna was from 2009, and the Doctor wanted Buffy to give Dawn the key _now_ …

Buffy would be dead, at the latest, in nine years.


	10. Home, Part V

Glory laid back on her couch, letting her minions pamper her — letting some give her a scalp massage while others buffed her nails, and a third group made sure that she looked exactly right. She was so tired of this dimension, of needing minions to make sure she looked good, of needing food and drink and scalp massages and all these other things.

But she wouldn't be here long, if she got her way.

The door opened, behind her, and she could hear her other minions rushing in. Glory glanced into the mirror that hung on the wall across from her. Through the reflection, she could see the bound, helpless figure of a tall man being dragged into the room and thrown upon the floor.

He was not exactly as she had imagined him. He was… tiny. Just some thin — almost twig-like — man who wore a pretty face and a dinky little suit. So terribly breakable, so terribly small — not at all the sort of person to be able to bring down gods.

Was this really the Doctor, the annihilator of Sutekh, the Oncoming Storm, the mortal who had caused so much death and devastation during the Time War? This little itty bitty breakable thing?

One of Glory's minions rushed forwards, and bowed in front of her. "Oh, glorious, exquisite, flawless—"

"Yeah, whatever munchkin," said Glory. "That my Time Lord?"

"It most certainly is, your supreme splendidness," agreed the minion. "But I have to confess, he did try to stir up our—"

"Shut up," said Glory. She stayed on the couch, her back to this silly, insignificant little thing who thought he could destroy her, who dared to defy her will. She batted the minions nearby away, and examined her nails, carelessly. "So, Time Lord, I've got to say, you're one thing I never thought I'd see in this reality."

The Doctor said nothing.

Glory picked up an iron nail file, and started filing her nails. "I thought you were all gone and wiped out of time," said Glory. "Kachunk. Finished. Annihilated. Removed from the universe in an act of destruction so brutal, so horrific, it made me a little envious." She paused a moment. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now, would you?"

The Doctor said nothing.

Glory snapped the nail file in half, as her anger surged through her. "Come on! Speak up!"

"Your all exultant Glorificus, he cannot," said the minion beside her. "He has been gagged."

Glory stood up and kicked the minion across the room. "And how is he supposed to tell me where my Key is when he can't talk?" she screamed.

The minion slammed into the wall, making it crack under the impact. The other minions scurried around, rushing to do her bidding.

Glory heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a cough. Great. Her Time Lord was alive, awake, and ready for an interrogation that would surely break him.

"Leave us," Glory told her minions, as they all scampered out of the room.

The Doctor exercised his jaw, then gave her a grin. "Sorry about that," he said. "Slight bit of a disadvantage. Happy to introduce myself. I'm the—"

"Don't care," said Glory. "And don't bother, I know who you are. I heard about the Time War. Big fan. That Arcadia thing? Loved it." She turned her head, for the very first time, looking at him directly. "Wanna give me a few more details?"

"Who are you?" asked the Doctor, managing to get to his knees.

"Oh, come on, you haven't guessed?" said Glory. "I thought you Time Lord guys were supposed to be smart. No wonder you got sucked out of the universe." She walked over to him. "And speaking of sucking…" She ran her hands across the top of his head, feeling the mental energy buzzing beneath her fingertips. "I've always wanted to know what it would be like to brain-suck a Time Lord."

"Brain suck?" the Doctor asked. He didn't look scared — he looked curious.

"Oh, yeah," said Glory. "I bet it'd really be something. These humans are so breakable and weak and… blah. Your mind? That'd be something to remember. Mental energy like that — might make me feel more like myself again. Help me stretch through the dimensions."

Glory could see the exact moment when he worked it all out. She could see that spark appear in his eyes, and watched as it faded into shock and then a touch of horror. Yeah, now he got why she didn't care if he tried to get her minions to rise against her. Now he understood just how futile anything like that would be.

"No!" said the Doctor. "But that means… and that makes you…" His jaw fell open.

"Say it," said Glory.

"The _Meyomelae Krvas_ ," the Doctor whispered. "The Abomination of the Triumvirate. That Which Cannot Be Named." He took a deep breath. "Glorificus."

"Uh-huh," said Glory. She snapped his jaw closed. "Don't drool, honey. I get it. You're impressed. And who wouldn't be? You're just some mortal, while I'm a god."

"But that's impossible!" said the Doctor. "You're... but you can't be... but you are...!"

"What?" said Glory. "A myth? Legend? Scary bedtime story?"

"You shouldn't exist," the Doctor said. "Not here. Not now. It's impossible."

"No, _you_ shouldn't exist," said Glory. "I'm just in exile. That's why you can see it, and I can't. Cause you shouldn't be here." She hooked her fingers beneath his chin, and dragged him up to her eye level. "Now. I'll make you a deal. You tell me where my Key is, and I let you keep existing. What d'you think of that, Time Guy?"

The Doctor frowned, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "Sorry, Key?"

Glory hesitated. She'd been sure. So sure! Was it possible he didn't know anything? Was it possible that she'd been wrong?

No, she couldn't be wrong. He'd known about it back when he was doing the White Guardian's dirty work. He'd stolen Excalibur away before she could even get to it. Obviously, he knew what the Key was.

(Unless whatever the monks had done had affected his brain, too.)

"Just because you can't go home doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to, either," said Glory. "Now. Key. Mine. Where is it?"

"Have you checked your pockets?" the Doctor asked.

Glory threw him across the room, and he thunked against the floor, rolling a little under the impact. "Why are you being so difficult?" she shouted. "I know you know what I'm talking about."

"Maybe it fell down the back of the settee," the Doctor offered.

Glory picked up a lounge chair, and hurled it at him. He curled into a ball, trying to protect himself, as it crashed on top of him, upside down. "This isn't some stupid game like your Time War. This is serious! I'm on a deadline, here, and I need to find my Key! So just tell me where it is!"

For a few seconds, Glory thought he wouldn't answer her. That maybe she'd actually knocked him unconscious, or even squished him flat. Then, from beneath the turned-over lounge chair:

"Have you tried picking the lock with a paperclip?"

Glory stormed over and shoved the chair out of the way. "You know, I'd tell you all the ways I could kill you," said Glory, pulling him up by his hair. "All the things I could do to you. Except… you already know. Which means that either your memory got zapped, and you really don't have a clue what I'm talking about, or you just enjoy watching me suffer!"

The Doctor said nothing for a moment. Then, "I can help you."

"Yeah?" said Glory. "Whatcha offering, Time twerp?"

"I can find a way to stabilize your mental energy," the Doctor said. "Drag you into three dimensions, completely, thereby fixing you to this reality. You can become human, lead a normal, sane life without having to drain any more minds."

Glory just gaped at him. Too stunned to speak.

"That's your help?" she shouted. "That's your answer? Force me to stay here and be human?" She dropped him, snapped a leg off the chair she'd thrown at him, and struck him with the chair leg, repeatedly. "You selfish jerk! Just because you don't have a home, you think no one else should? Well, newsflash, Doctor. The universe is bigger than just you!" She slammed the chair leg against him, again, hard enough to make the wood shatter as it hit him.

The Doctor gasped for air. Still not looking at her, still curled into himself, now bruised and bloody and clearly in pain. But still conscious, and still not even close to death. They were tough, these Time Lords. Glory had to give them that.

"I don't give second chances," the Doctor wheezed.

Glory paused, just looking at him. Bound, bleeding, completely at her mercy. Completely powerless. She started laughing. She collapsed onto the ground beside him, still laughing.

"Oh, I like you," she said. "Tied up, helpless, knowing you'll never make it out of this alive, and here you are, dishing out threats like they were in style." She leaned back against her hands. "You know, I always kind of wanted to meet you. There aren't a whole lot of things I like in this reality, but your little Time War? That was something I wanted in on. All that chaos and destruction. Mmm-mmm! And you, there, making it all happen. I mean, that Moment thing — a hundred galaxies, countless numbers of innocent souls, and you sentenced them to die over and over and over again. Agony and torment forever, with no way out." She reached out one hand and grabbed him by the ropes that bound his arms together, dragging him towards her. "Now that's creativity, hun."

The Doctor didn't answer her.

"Tell you what," said Glory. "You give me my Key, and I don't just keep you alive. I take you with me. Help you shake off the mortal coil. Make you a god."

Glory saw a spark of interest in his eyes. He seemed to perk up a little.

"Really?" asked the Doctor.

Glory grinned. She knew she'd find his weak spot eventually. "That sound tempting, Time Lord?"

"Oh, yes," agreed the Doctor. "You clearly know me terribly well."

"Yeah, so, go on," said Glory. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?"

"My Key!"

"Ah, yes, I keep waiting for the bit where you explain what, exactly, that is," said the Doctor. "Can't really help find it if I don't know what I'm looking for."

"The Key that those monks hid!" shouted Glory. "The one that will open the interdimensional gateway."

The Doctor absorbed the information, with a slight crease of his forehead. "I see. And you never thought to ask the monks who hid it…?"

"Dead," said Glory.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "What, all of them?"

"They didn't give me what I wanted." She gave him a piercing glare. "Let's hope you're not stupid enough to do the same."

"Nah, course not! Never!" The Doctor paused, thinking the matter over. "Course, might take me a bit of time, and… you said you were on a deadline, yes? So, when would that deadline be, exactly?"

Glory stared at him. These Time Boring-ords were supposed to be smart. Supposed to be able to see the strands of time all coming together. If he could easily work out when it was, why would he be asking her…?

That was when Glory figured out, all of a sudden, exactly what the Doctor was doing. Why he was playing dumb. Oh, that was clever. Very, very clever.

She hurled him across the room, against the far wall. He thudded against it, the plaster cracking around him, then dropped to the ground.

"I see what you're doing," she said, leaping to her feet and strolling over to him. "You're playing dumb to find out how much I know. You're trying to get me to tell you all my plans, exactly what I've worked out, so you can waltz right in at the last minute and stop me." She put her foot down on his ribcage, and waited as the bones cracked, one by one. "You've been lying to me, haven't you, Time Twit? Playing me along, trying to make me tell you something you can use?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a pained gasping.

"Should have guessed you wouldn't care much for immortality," said Glory. "After all, no home, no one left to love you, nowhere left to belong." She knelt down by him, stroking her hands over his chest, watching him wince every time she hit a broken rib. "It's not just that you shouldn't exist. You don't even want to." She shushed him, slipping a hand into his hair, coaxing him towards her. "Threatening your life won't work. So how about this? Either you tell me where my Key is, Time Toy, or I butcher the next hundred humans I come across. Starting with your little red-headed friend."

It was a strategy she honestly never thought would work. The Time Lord who'd obliterated entire worlds, who'd been legendary in his destruction — of course, he'd never care what happened to a few humans. But he slumped, as if he'd just been defeated. As if he'd caved.

"I'll tell you," he said.

Glory grinned. "Oh, look at you! Aren't you the softie." She cuddled him a little, feeling him writhe against her as she hit his shattered bones. "Now. Talk, Timey. Where's my Key?" She tightened her arms around him, a little harder, so that he hissed. "You do get what Key I mean, right?"

"Yes."

Well, that was progress. Glory loosened her arms a little. "Yeah, so? Where is it?"

The Doctor met her eyes with his own, and Glory could see a spark of something that these stupid little humans lacked. A spark of something dangerous. A spark of something brutal and timeless and destructive — a spark she liked.

(She really wished he'd taken her up on her offer. It was sort of a shame to kill him.)

"It's gone."

Glory froze. "What?"

"The Key," said the Doctor. "I found it. And I destroyed it. It's gone."

Glory felt the anger rise in her veins. She didn't like him anymore. Either he was lying — and how dare he lie to her about something like this — or he wasn't, and he'd purposely locked her out of her home forever. She pushed him away from her, leaping to her feet, glaring at him. She began to pick up everything in sight — potted plants, mirrors, couches, paintings — and hurled them at him, one after another.

They shattered against the Doctor's body, tearing him to shreds.

"You selfish, lying, stubborn little thief!" she shrieked. "You think you can just steal my stuff and destroy it? Do you even know who I am?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what I could do to you?" She charged towards him, yanking him to his feet, her hand around his throat. "Are you trying to make me kill you? Is that it? You're doing all this because you've got some sort of death wish? Because the second you go down, Time Jerk, your little redheaded friend is going right down with you."

Now the Doctor looked truly terrified. He struggled, whimpering, and managed to gasp out, "Please! I don't care what you do to Donna, but… please… _please_ … don't brain suck me. Please…"

But Glory was sick of his stupid voice, and squeezed the words out of his throat.

She knew he'd survive it. She'd probably be able to kill him a few times, and he'd survive it. But that stupid Time Bastard had given her an idea. Brain sucking him was way better than just beating him senseless.

Glory threw him into a chair. "Not a bad idea, you know," she said, advancing towards him. "Might make you worth my time. Brain suck you, and I get enough energy to shake off this prison for a year or two. Get almost all of it back. Become a god again. And you can spend the last few moments of sanity thinking about just what that's gonna mean for your friend, yeah?"

The Doctor began to struggle, as much as he possibly could given the injuries and the restraints. Oh, he was scared all right, that was for sure. Little jerk deserved it.

Glory lunged forwards, and in one movement, shoved her hands into the Doctor's mind.

And… oh! How magnificent! How glorious! She moaned at the feeling of such raw power drifting through her, the tendrils of energy that were flooding her own mind. Oh, yes, this is what it was about! This was the stuff! And there was so much more of it! So very much…

That was when Glory began to realize that something was wrong.

Because this energy surging into her mind wasn't revitalizing her. No, it was doing the opposite. It felt as if someone had pulled the stopper from the bottom of her mind and was slowly draining her, bit by bit, letting everything she'd gained over her captivity fall away into nothing.

She opened her eyes, and met the Doctor's own. But his eyes weren't scared. They were dark. Biting. Cold and angry, like staring into that deep abyss of madness and knowing she'd be pulled back there, trapped forever.

"I don't give second chances," the Doctor growled.

And Glory realized… this was it. This was the end. She was going to retreat back into her prison, be forced to start from scratch, take control again. And by the time she managed to break out of it, once more, the moment she needed would be over, the Key — if it were still around — would be forever out of her reach, and she would be stuck here. Stranded on Earth. Forever.

The Doctor had condemned her.

But she was taking him down with her.

She pulled as hard as she could at his mind, draining him of everything he had left. She was going to make sure that he lived the rest of his life in the same hell he'd condemned her to. She was going to make him suffer for this, for daring to defy her — Glory! A goddess! For daring…

She… she… she…

She was going…

She was losing it, losing all touch with the world around her. She was draining, going faster and faster. She was… really… really…

Glory blinked. She looked around. It was like… the whole world had shuddered around her. Like everything had convulsed for just a moment. And suddenly, she was fine. Completely fine. Her mind was intact, no draining had occurred, and everything was back to normal. Only… in the place where her Time Lord should be, Glory found…

Nothing.

She spun around. No sign of her Time Lord. No ropes tossed onto the ground or footprints across her sumptuous carpets. The walls she'd cracked by throwing him and her minions against them were all in perfect shape, once more. The furniture she'd destroyed was back to the way it had been before that Time Twerp ever came in. There was no trace of him anywhere.

He'd just… disappeared. Done some clever time thing, and vanished.

Glory stood in the middle of the room, staring at the walls, angrily. "Oh, very clever, Doctor. Very, very clever. I knew you had to be lying! You didn't destroy my Key after all, did you? You were just trying to trick me into draining your mind and destroying myself!"

Glory waited, a moment, as if for a response, but none came.

"Well, it's not going to work!" she retorted, anyways. "You hear that, Time Lord? I am going to find my Key! I'm going to become a goddess again! And when my day of triumph arrives, I swear I'll make you wish you'd gotten stuck in that time lock yourself!"

* * *

The Doctor looked up at Donna, his hands hovering over the spacio-temporal coordinate settings. They were in the TARDIS, again.

"Oh, no," Donna was saying. "I'm coming with, Spaceman. Sunnydale, planet of the hats, beginning of the universe, wherever. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

The Doctor just stared. He looked down at himself, but he looked fine. Felt fine. He'd been battered, bruised and broken. He'd been driven into a darkness of eternal madness, a fate worse than death, in order to doom one twelfth-dimensional being. Condemned to a horror the likes of which he never wanted to contemplate (but Donna would be safe, and Buffy would be safe, and all the others would be safe as well, they'd all be safe — and that made it all worthwhile). And then the universe had pushed him out, again.

Another near-collapse.

"Oi!" said Donna, marching over to him. "You're not thinking about killing Dawn, again, are you?"

"You don't remember," the Doctor realized.

Donna frowned. "Don't remember what?"

The Doctor typed in the spacio-temporal coordinates for Sunnydale — just when he'd gotten pushed out, just when he'd left the time-stream. The TARDIS groaned into life, then shook, violently, as the coordinates began to flip by themselves.

Donna tried to grab onto the central console, as the TARDIS tossed her across the room. "Oi! Can't you learn to fly this thing?"

"Something's wrong," said the Doctor. "Something is very, very wrong."

And he needed to work out what it was.

* * *

Dawn was safe.

Buffy wasn't really sure why she kept feeling like Dawn had just been in some sort of terrible danger, but none of that mattered, because she was safe.

They were outside, though, and Buffy wasn't exactly sure why they were outside. She had the feeling they were looking for someone. And, of course, she'd brought Dawn along, because she couldn't leave Dawn alone, not with that woman after her.

No, hang on. They weren't looking for anyone.

The more Buffy thought about it, the more she knew. They weren't looking for anyone; they'd never been looking for anyone. They'd come outside for something else. Buffy just… wasn't exactly sure what.

Buffy took Dawn's hand. "Let's go home."

And so they walked along the street, back towards their house, Dawn and Buffy, side by side. And it wasn't until they were within a block of their home that Buffy recognized the strange girl standing a few feet away, looking down at something in her hands.

It was the same girl she'd seen before, just after Riley's operation. The one who'd recognized Buffy, who'd called herself Rose.

The closer Buffy got, the more she could make out. It appeared that Rose was focused on a small, yellow device in her hands, a circular device that she was muttering at, beneath her breath. She looked up, as Buffy approached, and smiled.

"Hello, again," she said. "I don't suppose you've seen any vanishing Police Boxes round about…" She trailed off, as her eyes fixed on Dawn.

"What's a Police Box?" Dawn asked.

Buffy squeezed Dawn's hand a little tighter. She didn't know who this Rose person was, but the way Rose was looking at Dawn was making Buffy uneasy. Did she know what Dawn was? How?

"Can I see that?" Buffy asked Dawn, pointing at the key draped around Dawn's neck.

That was when Buffy realized that Rose hadn't been staring at Dawn — just at that necklace, at that tiny Yale key. Dawn shrugged, took it off, and handed it to Rose.

Rose took the key from Dawn, touching it, tentatively, as if she were afraid that it would shock her. She brought it up to her eyes and examined it in minute detail, as if she were analyzing a very complicated puzzle, and couldn't quite make the pieces fit. Then her eyes widened, and she handed the key back.

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

"Buffy gave it to me," said Dawn.

Rose turned to Buffy. "And you… you haven't seen the Doctor?"

"Which doctor?" asked Buffy. "I mean, I've met a bunch, over at the hospital—"

"You don't even know who I'm talking about," Rose realized. She looked from Buffy to Dawn. "Neither of you." She took a shaky breath, and then turned, racing down the street. "I'm going to need another jump back home," she announced to the air around her. "Something is very, very wrong."

"What—?" Buffy started, but Rose vanished before her eyes.

Dawn turned the small key over in her hands. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked.

"Put it somewhere safe," said Buffy. "And don't touch it, don't look at it, don't go anywhere near it from now on. Whatever that thing is, it's something that shouldn't belong."

Like the blank red notebook on Buffy's desk. Like them being outside, unable to understand why. Like that feeling in Buffy's heart, that she'd just forgotten something terribly, terribly important. It was all wrong, none of it belonged.

Buffy had too many other things to worry about, right now.


	11. Everything Has Its Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy finds out the truth behind the Slayer.

Buffy had been completely confident. Cracking jokes with the vampire, telling it that it smelled, flipping and twirling and diving like she always did.

And then, for no apparent reason, she'd messed up.

The vampire had grabbed her arm, and driven her own wooden stake into her gut.

If it wasn't for Riley saving her life, Buffy probably would have died.

That was when Buffy decided she needed to know more. Because she knew that every Slayer had an expiration date, but she wanted to make sure her own death was way far in the future. Buffy went off to the Magic Box, determinately searching Giles' books for information on previous Slayers' final battles. What had gone wrong? Why had they been defeated?

But there was no information given. None at all.

"Where are the details of the Slayer's last battle?" Buffy asked Giles. "What made that fight special? I mean, why did she lose?"

Giles muttered something about how Buffy didn't lose that fight last night, she shouldn't be so hard on herself.

But Buffy knew better. She'd been training harder than ever, she was in the best condition of her life, and she'd still slipped up.

"Maybe if there were just a few good descriptions of the Slayer's last battle, that would help me understand my mistake," said Buffy. "Keep it from happening again."

Giles sighed, and took off his jacket. "Yes, well, the problem is after a final battle, it's difficult to get any…" He sat down, staring at his hands. "Well, the Slayer's not… She's rather, um…"

"It's okay to use the D word, Giles," said Buffy.

"Dead. And hence, not very forthcoming."

Buffy grabbed at a book to her side. "Well, why didn't the Watchers keep better accounts of it?" She flipped through the pages. "I mean, the journals just stop."

"I suppose if they're anything like me," said Giles, "they just find the subject too…"

"Unseemly?" Buffy glanced down at the book in her lap. "Damn. I love you, but you Watchers, you're such prigs sometimes."

"…painful, I was going to say," Giles corrected.

Giles and Buffy said nothing a moment, just looking at one another, letting it all sink in. What it would mean. What Buffy's death would really mean, for both of them.

Giles got up off the stool. "But you're right. Accounts of the final battles would be very helpful. But there's… no one left to tell the tales."

That was when a thought struck Buffy. A thought that she should have thought of long ago. One that struck Giles, at the same time. They both met each other's eyes, and they could tell they'd had the exact same revelation.

There was someone still alive who knew. A time traveler. The one man who'd seen every single Slayer die.

And Buffy happened to be his best friend.

* * *

Buffy went home, to find the Doctor trying to help out her mother while being completely and utterly terrified of her. Buffy's mom, of course, didn't pick up on the Doctor's fear at all, but continued to be her usual, unthreatening, supportive self.

Elsewhere, Donna was keeping an eye on Dawn.

Buffy appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, bouncing on her toes, her eyes fixed firmly on the Doctor. The Doctor must have noticed her out of the corner of his eye, because he spun around to face her. The moment his eyes rested on Buffy, all the tension and fear in his body seemed to drain away, and he broke into a wide grin.

"Elizabeth!" he said. "Brilliant to see you! Your mum said you were out for the night."

"I saw the TARDIS and thought I'd drop by," said Buffy. "Tell you what? Why don't I take you with me? On patrol!"

The Doctor blinked. "Sorry, why don't you what?"

"Well, if I'm going to go out hunting vampires, I just thought… I might as well have some backup," said Buffy.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that I won't let you take any weapons," said the Doctor. "Or stake any vampires. And, in fact, will probably do everything in my power to stop you from doing your job?"

"Yep," said Buffy, with a grin.

The Doctor looked her over. "And… you haven't been seriously ill or delirious recently?"

"Nope."

"Or ingesting judgment impairing substances?" the Doctor checked. He stepped forwards, and started knocking on the walls. "Perhaps there's some sort of toxic chemical compound inside the walls that's causing—"

"I'm fine, Doctor," said Buffy. "And if you start licking the walls, Mom will yell at you."

That made the Doctor freeze in his tracks. He ventured a scared look over at Buffy's mom, who was her usual, smiling, nonthreatening self.

"Oh, you two go off and have fun," said Buffy's mom, with a soft smile. "I'm perfectly all right, here, by myself. And if I need any help, I'll ask your friend to give me a hand."

Buffy gave the Doctor a look that said, 'if you come with me, I'll rescue you from doing scary domestic things with a scary unthreatening-looking Mom.' The Doctor seemed to cave, at this, and Buffy knew she'd won.

The Doctor pasted a dazzling smile on his face, and walked over to her. "Yes, well, in that case," he said. "Allons-y!"

* * *

Of course, it hadn't taken the Doctor very long to work out that Buffy didn't actually want to patrol. In fact, Buffy was guessing it had taken him all of about two seconds since she first asked him in the kitchen. But he'd been nice about it, and let her lead him through the dark streets and into the park by her house.

"I can't help but note," said the Doctor, "that you don't have any weapons on you."

"I told you I wouldn't bring any," said Buffy.

The Doctor tilted his head. "Yes, well, you always say that," he said. "But then you still manage to somehow conceal a large number of weapons on your person. Really, an absolutely astonishing number of weapons. I didn't think it was possible to conceal that many weapons on a single individual." He glanced back at her. "But tonight? Nothing."

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me," Buffy offered.

"Or," said the Doctor, "you've brought me out here for a reason that has nothing to do with patrolling or vampires. You want me to do something I wouldn't normally do. Something I'm not going to like."

"No!" said Buffy. "I'd never."

"Is that never in the exact same way you'd never, ever stake a vampire?" the Doctor asked. He sighed. "Go on, then. What is it?"

Buffy gathered up her courage. This was the part she'd been dreading. Asking him to tell her about the past, about the other Slayers. The Doctor didn't talk about it — ever. And she knew that things the Doctor never talked about were closed topics to him.

But he knew the truth.

"You've seen every single Slayer die," Buffy told him.

The Doctor froze.

"I just thought—"

"No," he said, in a very, very quiet voice, barely above a whisper.

"But you can tell me—"

"No," he said. "Don't ask me about that again."

Buffy faltered, trying to think of how to phrase this. She knew if she didn't put it just right, he'd clam up, and never tell her anything.

"Look, Doctor, I know you're all upset about it and stuff, but… I'm scared," she said. "I nearly got killed, last night, and I need to know what I did wrong. Maybe, if I understand what mistakes the other Slayers made—"

"No," said the Doctor, again. "I'm not discussing this. Not with you. Not with anyone."

"Not even to help me survive?" Buffy asked. "That second time we met, you said you'd just seen every Slayer die, and you were there to save my life. I just want you to save it again." She pouted. "Come on! I didn't bring any weapons. I didn't stake any vampires recently. And… oh, the vampire that almost killed me — I let him go! See? I'm being good!"

"I'm glad," said the Doctor. "But I'm still not discussing it."

"Why not?" asked Buffy. "I could bake you cookies! Or… banana bread!"

But it looked like not even banana bread was going to cut it, this time. The Doctor was stuck in serious sulk-mode.

"Okay, then, just… tell me one mistake that a Slayer made, in the past, that caused her to die," said Buffy. "Not all of them. Just — one."

"I can't," said the Doctor, with a humorless laugh.

"Oh, come on, stop being stubborn, already!" said Buffy. "I'm your friend."

"There's nothing to tell," said the Doctor. His voice was hard, cold. The way he always sounded when he didn't want to talk about things. "There is no 'mistake'. None of it's a mistake."

"Huh?" asked Buffy.

"No one made a mistake," said the Doctor. "That's not why it happened."

"Then why?" asked Buffy. "What made that last battle special? What made them die?" She took the Doctor's hand in hers. "Please, Doctor. I need to understand."

The Doctor said nothing, but began walking, again, his eyes fixed straight ahead. The wind ran through the trees, making Buffy shiver, slightly. The Doctor flicked his eyes over to her, noticing the shiver. He shrugged off his trench coat, and handed it over.

Buffy took it, and met his eyes. "Please, Doctor," she said. "Help me."

The Doctor just stared at her, a moment, his eyes seeming to drift far away, to other times and places, to other people long since dead. Then they snapped back to the present, in a sudden intensity that took Buffy's breath away.

"Be more human," he told her. Then he turned, and walked off, hands in his trouser pockets.

Buffy raced after him. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," said the Doctor. "And that's all I'm going to say on the matter."

Buffy frowned. Be more human? But she wanted to be less human, more Slayer! "You said the Slayer was a Time Lord," she said. "I've seen how fast you can move, all the crazy time stuff you can do and the outsmarting and things. Maybe if I could just… tap into that, somehow, bring that out…"

"No."

"Why not?" asked Buffy. "I thought Time Lords were all superior and stuff."

The Doctor said nothing.

"Look, if you won't tell me anything, I'll go and find Spike," said Buffy. "Beat him up for answers. He's killed two Slayers. He'll be able to tell me something, at least."

"Go ahead," said the Doctor.

Buffy frowned. That meant whatever secret the Doctor was keeping from her, it was something that Spike didn't know about, only seeing two. Something the Doctor had worked out after seeing every single Slayer die, some larger pattern that had emerged.

"There's a reason the Slayers all die, isn't there?" asked Buffy. "You've noticed something. A pattern. You know exactly why that final battle is special, exactly what mistake the Slayers make that causes them to die. That's why the Watchers Council was so interested in you! That's the knowledge they really wanted. They wanted to fix their flaws."

The Doctor didn't answer her.

"Look, I know you were reluctant to tell the Watchers Council what was really going on with the Slayer," said Buffy. "I get that. But I'm not them. I… I thought you trusted me."

The Doctor's stern expression fell, the shadows of night making his face look even sadder beneath the street lamps. He glanced back at her. "They died," said the Doctor, in a voice barely above a whisper, "because they had to."

Buffy frowned. "Huh?"

"I told you," said the Doctor. "I couldn't save them. Not a single one."

"Because you were going back in history and stuff," said Buffy. "I remember."

"No," said the Doctor. "Because everything has its time, and everything dies."

"But that just means the events already happened in the past, and you couldn't go back and change them, right?" asked Buffy. "But… my future hasn't been written, yet. You can change that. I mean, I know I'm going to die, someday, but that day can be way, way in the future."

"That's not how it works," said the Doctor.

Buffy felt her blood run cold. "Not how what works?"

The Doctor turned, and started walking off, again. "Be more human, Elizabeth," he told her. "Always, always strive to be more human."

Buffy ran after him, and caught his arm, yanking him back — a little more urgently than she'd wanted.

"Doctor," said Buffy. "Why did they die?"

"Because they had to!" the Doctor told her. "Because that's what had to happen. That's what always has to happen. Don't you see?"

Buffy shook her head.

The Doctor put his hands on her shoulders, staring deep into her eyes. "The Watchers Council constructed a system that works," he said. "A system of Slayers who are all murdered before their thirtieth birthday. I may not like it. I may not approve of it. But it does work."

"Yeah, but if I can understand why they died, then maybe I can live longer than that!" Buffy insisted.

"That's not the way it works!" the Doctor said. "Don't you see? The system doesn't work in spite of the fact that no Slayer lives past 30. It works _because_ no Slayer lives past 30!"

Buffy just stared at him.

The Doctor backed away, his eyes burning. "I'm sorry," he said. "But until the day the Watchers Council crumbles and falls, that's how the system will always work."

And that day was obviously not coming any time soon.

"So… this Slayer consciousness is poison, or something?" asked Buffy. "It's killing us?"

The Doctor stared off into the distance. "Do you remember what I said, the day you met me?" he asked.

"You said a lot of things," said Buffy. "You said that you knew me, that the Daleks were destroyed, that I was your friend, that I was completely evil and had killed off the last member of your species…"

"Not that," said the Doctor. "About killing vampires. Killing things without a soul."

"You said what you always say," said Buffy. "That they're sentient creatures and they can't help the way they are, and I should give them a chance, even though—"

"I didn't."

Buffy frowned. "Huh?"

"That's what I tell you, now," said the Doctor. "That's not what I told you, then."

Buffy thought back, trying to call up the memory. But that had been so long ago. Years ago. It had all gotten fuzzy in her head. All mixed up with the many other times she'd seen him.

"I told you," said the Doctor, "that they might not have souls. But you do."

And he'd asked her, _Doesn't it hurt you, just a little bit more every time you do it?_ She'd forgotten about that. Back then, the answer had been yes. It did.

It didn't, now.

"I've seen what it's like to fight a never-ending war against entirely evil creatures," the Doctor told her. "I know what that does to you. I know how that changes you, warps your mind. I've seen people — good, kind people — transformed. Changed. Altered. When you fight Daleks, you become Daleks. When you fight soulless creatures, you become soulless yourself. That's what happens."

And Buffy fought against things without a soul all the time…

Oh.

No wonder the Doctor had been so upset when he'd first met her. No wonder he'd thought there was nothing good left inside of her. No wonder he'd been so insistent that she stop, that she walk away while she still could.

And then, when he'd come back, after he'd seen what the Slayer really was…

That was when a horrible thought occurred to Buffy. When she put two and two together, and worked out something that the Doctor hadn't been telling her.

Because the Slayer consciousness was… Time Lord, wasn't it? A baby Time Lord, transplanted into a human. And when she'd first learned about that, she'd thought that just meant the consciousness was like… him. Like the Doctor.

Except… that wasn't what his own people had been like. Not at the end.

(When you fight Daleks, you become Daleks.)

They'd tried to end the universe, the Time Lords, hadn't they? Ten billion Time Lords, ascending, all at once. Of course the Doctor had seen good, kind people transformed by war. It was his own people that he'd seen transformed.

Which meant… Buffy had been asking the wrong question. When she'd been working with Giles, trying to figure out what this Slayer Consciousness really was, who this baby Time Lord had been before she was murdered — Buffy had been going the entirely wrong direction.

"When?" Buffy asked.

"Sorry?"

"You said the Slayer Consciousness was a baby Time Lord," said Buffy. "And I've been trying to work out what that means. But I was wrong. I shouldn't have been trying to work out what. I should have been trying to work out when."

Buffy knew she'd asked the right question, because of the way every single muscle in the Doctor's body seemed to tense, all at once.

"She was from the end, wasn't she?" asked Buffy. "She was born at the end of the War."

The Doctor's shoulders slumped, and Buffy knew she'd been right.

"But she was a baby," said Buffy. "She hadn't even faced Daleks, yet."

"She was born for War," said the Doctor. "Preprogrammed for battle. A soldier-baby." He ran a hand through his hair. "A little tiny baby, born in darkness and bloodshed, stripped of her entire planet, then torn apart and scattered throughout the human race. That's what's in your head."

"So… she's not at all like you," Buffy said.

"She's half-insane, completely vengeful, and alone — so utterly alone," the Doctor told her. "A soldier trained to kill, with nothing and no one left to defend."

"But she does have something to defend," said Buffy. "The world."

"Wrong world," said the Doctor.

Buffy said nothing, the realization washing across her. She'd seen the Doctor, when he was dangerous. Alien. Completely powerful and utterly unstoppable. Her friends had seen that, too, and it scared them beyond belief. Imagining someone like the Doctor, but without his kindness, without his passion for life, without his goal to make people better — it was terrifying.

And that was the essence of the Slayer.

"Eventually," said the Doctor, "she takes over. Eventually, she makes you like her. And every Slayer embraces it differently. Some — those who were inspired, who'd stayed and trained and fought like the Watchers wanted— were overwhelmed by the darkness, and simply let themselves go. Let themselves lose that final battle, let themselves die. Other Slayers… relished it. Felt they were better than the rest of humanity. Decided to turn against the world they fought so long and hard to protect."

"And the others?" asked Buffy.

The Doctor said nothing.

"There… are others, right?" Buffy checked.

"Some ran," the Doctor confessed. "Left the world to fend for itself, left friends and family and Watchers behind, and ran away. And as a result, people died — so many people. I went back through history, tried to stop the worst of it, tried to save as many people as I could. But I couldn't save them all. And the Slayer, herself — something always got her, in the end. Either the Watchers Council, or a demon with an agenda, or a vampire who wanted to prove he was a big-shot."

"And the rest?" asked Buffy.

"That's all there were," said the Doctor. "It's what happened with Time Lords, and it's what happens with you lot. Some are inspired, some go mad, and some… just run away."

Buffy digested this. What it meant. What all this implied, for her. No wonder the Doctor hadn't wanted to tell her this. No wonder the Doctor had wanted to keep this from her, keep it a secret. Because he knew what was inside her, and he knew what it meant.

"I'm going to die," Buffy realized. "And nothing you can do will stop it."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"That darkness inside of me," said Buffy. "It's coming out. It's trying to take over. And every day I fight against the forces of darkness, every day I defend the world, I'm killing myself. If I keep fighting, I'll destroy myself. But if I stop, everyone else is going to die."

"That was what they all said," said the Doctor. "The ones who were inspired. The ones who stayed, and fought. That's why they wanted to let it all go, give in and die. But I could never relate, because… I ran."

Buffy blinked. "But you said… you were there. You didn't run away! You fought in the War. You…" She trailed off, as she realized. "…you survived."

"Because I murdered everyone else," the Doctor told her.

But that wasn't what Buffy had meant. He'd survived — not his body, but his soul, that goodness inside of him. Every single other Time Lord had died before the War even ended — they'd all turned evil and tried to ascend. But not the Doctor.

Every Slayer had to die. It was their fate, their destiny, to fight against the forces of darkness, and then be consumed by that darkness themselves. And Buffy had been searching, so hard, for the exception to that rule.

But here he was. Right in front of her, all this time.

And it became clear, so clear, all at once. Why he'd been the one not consumed by the darkness. Why he'd been the only one to survive. It wasn't because he ran, when he was young. It wasn't because he stayed and fought when he was older. No, she knew why he was the only one who'd come out of this battle with his soul intact. He'd told her, when she was eighteen.

"I don't need to be more human," she said, taking his hand in hers. "I just have to remember what you told me. That the night is only dark, when you ignore the stars."

The Doctor met her eyes, and she could see from that spark of pride when he looked at her, that spark of complete awe and amazement, that she was right. The one thing no Slayer before her had ever realized. That she wasn't fighting for death. She was fighting for life.

For the stars.

For the one creature in the whole universe who'd been able to give that to her. To light her way. To bring sunlight to the darkness.

Her Doctor.

She reached out to take his hand. And the moment their fingers touched…

Buffy looked around. She was alone, in the park by her house. She didn't understand why she was there… no, wait, she knew why she was there. She was trying to find Spike. She'd worked out, with Giles, that there was one guy who was still alive who'd seen two Slayers die. One guy who knew what the weakness in the Slayer was.

She had to find Spike.

She stepped off into the night air, the wind whistling through the trees, and she shivered. She swung the coat in her hands around her shoulders…

Except, she didn't have a coat in her hands. She'd never had a coat in her hands.

Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder, and she jumped a mile high. She spun around, ready to attack whoever was behind her, but… it was just Rose.

Handing Buffy a blue denim jacket.

"You look cold," said Rose.

Buffy took the jacket, but didn't put it on. "Who are you?"

Rose gave a little laugh. "Who am I? Who are _you_?"

"I thought you knew who I was," said Buffy. "You said you knew me."

"I do know you," said Rose. "But I don't think you know yourself."

Buffy just stared at her. Was this something to do with her being the Slayer? Was this something to do with the darkness that Dracula had sensed inside her?

"I shouldn't be here," said Rose. "I've been travelling across realities, leaping from dimension to dimension, universe to universe. And, for some reason, I keep winding up back here. With you. And no Doctor."

"You've been what?"

"There's something about you," said Rose. "Something different. Something that keeps dragging me off course. I don't think you know who you really are."

"I'm the Slayer," said Buffy. "I get that."

The phrase didn't seem to mean anything to Rose. It didn't even make an impression on her. She just shrugged. "If you say so."

"Look, who are you, anyways?" Buffy demanded. "You said you're Rose—"

Rose gave a laugh. "Shows you how long ago I first visited this reality."

"…So, you're not Rose?" Buffy checked.

"I am, but I don't tell anyone anymore," said Rose. "I've learned. The wrong word in the wrong place can change an entire causal nexus."

"Right," said Buffy. "So. You're Rose. And you're some demon who—"

"I'm human," said Rose.

Buffy blinked. "Okay, then." She shook her head, and continued, again. "So, you're just… some disappearing, reappearing human who goes from reality to reality, handing out coats?"

"I'm looking for someone," said Rose. "He was… a Time Lord. The last of his kind. When they were around, they used to fix things. Fix the universe. But now, there's no one. No one left but him."

"This is… your Doctor, isn't it?" asked Buffy.

"The universe is broken," said Rose. "Every universe is broken. The Darkness is coming. It's coming for you, too. The dimension cannon shouldn't work here, but it does. Around this time and place, the walls are too thin."

"Walls?"

"Something is coming," said Rose. "And it's destroying everything. Not just here, but in every reality." She glanced up at the sky. "The stars."

"What about them?"

"The stars are going out," said Rose, as she vanished into thin air.

Buffy stood, completely alone again, staring at the night sky. At the myriad of stars dancing an intricate pattern along its surface. A million, billion suns, all so far away. So unreachable.

_The stars are going out._

Buffy didn't know why she felt so terribly, terribly sad when she heard those words. As if she'd once had everything.

And lost it.


	12. Patrol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Donna sub for Buffy on patrol.

Buffy bent over the books in the Magic Shop, still trying to figure out what, exactly, she was facing. Glory, or Glorifi-whatever. Angry woman, red dress.

"I'm coming up empty," said Buffy, slamming the book shut.

"I thought the Doctor already told you what she was," said Xander.

"Yeah, but after he got to the fifth 14-syllable word, I kind of tuned him out," said Buffy.

"Willow's smart," said Xander. "Tell it to her."

Willow looked up from her spot around the circular table. She gave a hopeful grin.

"Okay," said Buffy. "Apparently, Glory is a twelfth-dimensional something condensing into a 3-dimensional something else, using something to do something, and now something's happening, and it's really, really bad, and the Doctor doesn't get how or why, except it's definitely, definitely something."

Willow gave a half shrug. "So… Glory's something?"

"You know, that's one thing about the Doctor," said Xander. "He might be a jerk, but he can something you into next year."

Buffy checked her watch. "I better head home soon. You guys able to do patrol tonight, if I ask Riley to pitch in?"

"I wouldn't bother with Riley," said Willow.

"Riley hasn't been terribly… punctual, of late," Giles explained.

"Punctual?" said Xander. "Try 'there at all'."

Buffy gave a small sigh. "I've got to stay with Mom," she said. "She really needs me. I mean…"

There was a jangle of a bell, and two familiar faces walked into the Magic Box. The Doctor was grinning, ear to ear, as he noticed them all. Donna was snapping something about the Magic Box being a real disappointment, as it wasn't bigger on the inside, and "Magic Box? Tarnis? Why does every bloody thing we run across, this year, sound like it was named by some twisted Doctor fan club?"

"Well, look who it is!" said Xander. "King of the somethings."

The Doctor's grin faltered. "Sorry?"

"We were just trying to figure out who Glory was," said Willow. "And Buffy's paraphrasing of your explanation didn't really help."

"Ah, well, it's quite simple, really," said the Doctor. "Glory is a twelfth-dimensional being — which is utterly impossible, seeing as they all fled during the Time War — condensed inside a three dimensional body which is discontinuous upon the seventh dimension, depending on the variant coefficient inside the multiple binary structure of—"

"Okay, I'm starting to understand the problem, here," said Xander.

Willow just gave a completely blank look.

"But you see, that's her weakness!" said the Doctor. "It's brilliant! A nearly perfect prison with one small imperfection, but if you solve all the equations, everything checks out."

"Oh," said Willow. "We were talking about prisons?"

"Terribly sorry to interrupt," said Giles to the Doctor. "But you mentioned a weakness."

"Ah, yes," said the Doctor. "The discontinuity along the seventh dimension. It varies directly based on the amount of mental energy absorbed, with an exponential decrease in—"

"Oi!" said Donna. "English, Doctor. Not Spaceman."

"It's…" the Doctor faltered. "Sometimes, Glory… well, I suppose the best way to describe it is that her twelfth dimensional self internalizes, causing an alternative three dimensional being to take its place, one with a distinctive—"

"That was the English version?" Buffy asked.

Xander made a hand gesture. "Dumb it down another notch."

The Doctor frowned, in concentration. "Sometimes, Glory isn't Glory," he said.

Everyone looked at everyone else.

"Huh?" asked Buffy.

"Well, she is," the Doctor explained. "Only, she's not. Except, she might be a he. Or perhaps he might be a she. Or perhaps they both turn into a blue genderless fungus from Katrozina 5, except probably not, because you lot would probably have noticed something like that. But in that state, the being that is Glory — except not Glory — pokes into enough of our visible dimensions in this reality that you can…" He looked around at the confused faces nearby. "Still nothing?"

Willow just shrugged, her blank look remaining.

"I get that Glory's bad," Buffy offered. "And that you're really worried about her. And you might have found a weakness. Which would be good, if we could ever understand what you were saying."

"Perhaps you'd be able to supply us with some information as to her origins," Giles proposed. "That might be a little simpler to explain."

The Doctor blew a breath out of his cheeks. "A rather nasty place," he confessed. "Called" — he made a sound that was both beautiful and mind-numbingly vicious at the same time — "or, at least, that was what we called it. Not that Time Lords ever really ventured there, terribly often. If you were a naughty child, adults would threaten to leave you there until you behaved."

Buffy and Giles looked at one another. Every so often, the Doctor dropped one or two hints about his childhood, and it wasn't quite as idyllic as he tried to make it seem when you asked him directly.

"Course, she was gone by the time I visited," said the Doctor. "There were three of them, see, ruling side by side. Glory and two others, called" — once again, two names that sounded completely foreign and alien — "and, let me tell you, those two are not very nice. At all! I offered to have tea with one of them, and he nearly threw me into a vast pit of burning hellfire for the rest of my—"

"Glory used to rule somewhere?" Willow cut in.

"Pretty sure," said the Doctor. "Least, that's what the stories all say. The Meyomelae Krvas — or, Glorificus, as you call her here on Earth. One of a triumvirate. Removed from power in a war almost as destructive as the Time War. Entire planets destroyed, galaxies turned to dust, timelines fractured to the point of complete disrepair. Almost completely ripped apart her reality." The Doctor beamed, and clapped his hands. "So, all in all, not somewhere you'd want to spend your holiday! Although, there _were_ these absolutely brilliant plants, that grew asymmetrically along a polar axial combination of—"

"So — we know she's from somewhere bad," said Willow. "And she used to rule it, but she doesn't anymore. That's… sort of useful."

"Ah, well, it's a wee bit more tricky than that," said the Doctor. "See, nearly every other twelfth-dimensional being like her fled this reality during the War, at which point the walls between universes sealed, and crossing the void became impossible. And I believe your Glory… wishes to go home."

"That's her big evil plan?" Buffy cried. "To go home?"

"Couldn't you just open up this void thing and take her home yourself?" Willow suggested.

"If it were a good idea," said the Doctor, "I'd have gotten Rose back long ago."

Buffy made an 'oh' shape with her mouth, as she realized the gravity of the situation. From what Buffy knew about the Doctor and his companions, along with what she knew about the Doctor's relationship with Rose, the Doctor would do basically anything short of destroying the universe to get her back.

"I guess this is one villain you can't really offer a chance to," said Buffy.

"Did," said the Doctor. "She's only able to survive in this reality by sucking the mental cohesion of others — and if she doesn't, she's driven into a prison of horror and insanity. I offered to cement her to this reality, pull her through into three dimensions so that she could live a normal, happy life without losing her mind or draining the sanity of others. I believe she told me I was horribly selfish, before rejecting the offer."

"Yeah, you know, what with your death wish and your martyr complex, I've got to say, 'selfish' is definitely the word I'd use to describe you," said Buffy. She checked her watch, again, and gave a little sigh. "I really have to get going." Then, a sudden brainwave idea. "Hey! Doctor, Donna! Why don't you guys go on patrol?"

The Doctor arched an eyebrow at Buffy.

"Buffy," said Willow, in a low voice, her eyes darting over to the Doctor. "He's an alien." She leaned in closer, then added, in a whisper, "And he's kind of scary, sometimes."

"He's good with vampires," said Buffy. "When they don't almost kill him, I mean." She turned to the Doctor. "You've gone off on patrol with me loads of times."

"Well, yes," said the Doctor. "Although, technically, I was stopping you from—"

"Then it's settled!" said Buffy. "You go out on patrol, and make sure none of these guys get themselves killed." She said that last part with enough emphasis to make sure the Doctor knew the real reason she wanted him along.

With no Riley around, the Scoobies were going on a vampire hunt with no trained professionals. Which left them terribly vulnerable. Spike had begun helping them out, but Buffy didn't trust Spike. The Doctor may disapprove of staking vampires or carrying weapons, but Buffy knew he would _never_ let anything happen to her friends.

That was far more important to her than anything else.

The Doctor got the message, and gave her a curt nod. Then Buffy left, to go and help her mother and Dawn at home.

* * *

"So you're telling me that 'patrol' has something to do with vampires?" Donna asked, in the cemetery that night.

Giles, Willow, Tara, and Xander had all brought major patrolling gear — stakes, holy water, crosses, cross-bows, and the like. The Doctor and Donna had shown up with… nothing.

Well, the Doctor had his sonic screwdriver. But that didn't help anyone, did it?

"That's the basic idea," said Xander.

Donna crossed her arms, and looked over at the Doctor. "Oi! Spaceman! Don't I get a pointy stick or something?"

The Doctor looked at her as if she were crazy. "Why would you want that?"

"So I don't get murdered, dumbo!"

"Well, I suppose," said the Doctor. "Although, on the other hand, you might hurt someone."

"Um, that's kind of the point," Xander said. "Vampires bad? Dust good?"

"Yeah, if we don't kill them, then they'll kill human people," said Willow.

"They can't help what they are," said the Doctor. "No one ever gave them a choice."

"Well, I suppose you could argue that, technically, they receive a choice every day," Giles said. "Seeing as it is possible to survive on a diet of rat blood as opposed to human blood."

"It's possible for you lot to survive on army rations," the Doctor said. "Doesn't mean any of you actually would want to."

Donna slapped the Doctor across the face.

The Doctor winced, and rubbed his cheek. "What was that for?"

"For being a bloody idiot!" Donna shouted. "They're killing people, Spaceman."

Xander looked impressed, and pointed at Donna. "Could we keep her?" he asked.

"I have to give them a chance," the Doctor told Donna. "One chance. That's all."

"Yes, well, actually, I'd strongly advise against that," said Giles. "Seeing as there is a terribly large possibility that the vampires will rip you to shreds if you give them the opportunity."

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets, and gave a cheerful grin.

Donna grabbed a stake from the Scoobies. "Well, I'm not dying just so some vampire can have its dinner."

"Look, I know you're against killing stuff," said Willow. "And you've got some cure or whatever. And that's great for you. But if these vampires start going after one of us normal human people, we're staking it."

The Doctor just gave Willow a wink.

Just then, three vampires leapt out at them, encircling the little group. Giles, Xander, Willow, and Tara all raised up crosses and stakes. Donna tried to look as menacing as she could with her own stake, considering she very obviously didn't have the first idea how to use it.

The Doctor just bounced on the balls of his feet, a wide smile on his face. "Hello, there."

And that was when the Scoobies realized something. The vampires weren't looking at them. Not at all. Every single vampire had its eyes fixed on the Doctor. And they were looking at him like he was their favorite food in the world, and all they had to do was just reach out and take it.

Then the vampire closest to the Doctor lunged towards him.

The Doctor, faster than anyone nearby could see, darted out of the way. "Yes, right, just, before you kill me," he told them, "I really think there's something you should…"

The second and third vampires lunged for him, and the Doctor turned, and ran.

The Scoobies and Donna just watched, as the vampires started chasing the Doctor around the graveyard, the Doctor trying to shout out his final plea to get them to stop because they were better than this and they should make the right decision. Which was getting him absolutely nowhere.

"What category of Doctor-annoyingness is this one?" Xander asked, his eyes glued on the scene before him.

"Well, I'd say… somewhere between supremely stubborn, and insufferably arrogant," said Giles.

Xander nodded. "Right. Okay. So… acceptable."

"Um, guys," said Willow, "Buffy's going to get really, really mad if he goes all gold glowing light thingy on us."

Donna's eyes narrowed, as she surged forwards. "Oi!" she shouted. "Vampires! Hands off!"

"And if Donna dies, we're all going to get double-killed," said Xander.

The Scoobies all looked at one another, then rushed after the Doctor and Donna.

By the time they caught up, the Doctor was cornered against a mausoleum, and Donna was hitting the vampire on the head with her purse, shouting incredibly loudly to, "Get your fangs away from him, Dracula!"

And there was no point in mentioning to Donna that they'd actually met Dracula, and this wasn't him, because none of the vampires really seemed to be paying her the slightest bit of attention. One of them had clearly grabbed the wooden stake from Donna's hand, and was holding it against the Doctor's throat.

The Doctor seemed not at all worried by this particular turn of affairs.

"You see, it really does make completely rational sense to stop hunting humans," the Doctor explained, "because that way, you'll live a long time, and they'll live a long time, and no one has to die!"

"Okay," said the vampire with the stake. "We won't kill humans. We'll just kill you."

The other vampires laughed.

The Doctor's eyes darkened. "Last chance."

"Just kill him already, Larry!" shouted one of the vampires.

The vampire with the stake grinned, evilly, and was about to bite down on the Doctor's neck, when Willow drove a stake through his back, and the vampire turned to dust.

The Doctor gave her a disapproving frown. "You didn't have to do that."

"You said one chance!" Willow protested. "How many one chances do you need?"

The other two vampires swung their heads over to Willow, hissing angrily. They lunged towards her, but Willow found herself pushed out of the way, and the vampires tackled a pinstripe suited figure onto the ground instead.

"I'm warning you," the Doctor told them. "This might be the last chance you get to save yourselves."

"I don't think we'll have a problem with that," said one of the vampires, as it bit down on the Doctor's throat.

The Scoobies ran over, but found themselves surrounded by four more vampires, separating them from the Doctor. These four vampires kept grumbling to themselves about why they had to get the bad food, but they didn't seem any more inclined to let the humans go.

"Vampire nest?" Tara asked.

"Time Lord nearby," Willow corrected.

"I don't care what you are, Fang-face!" Donna snapped at the nearest vampire. "You're going to let me through, right now, so I can rescue the Doctor! You got that, Sunshine?"

The vampire hissed and snarled at her, reaching out to grab her, but Giles pulled her back towards the rest of the group, which was inching closer and closer together.

"Best not antagonize them, actually," Giles told her.

"What do we do now?" Tara asked, raising her stake up before her like a shield.

"Well, now, we…" Giles scratched his head. "Well, I mean, we rather…" He sighed. "I'm afraid now we die."

Then, in unison, the vampires all howled, as they were sprayed with water from a water gun. The Scoobies all turned to find the Doctor, perfectly all right despite some blood dripping down from his neck and his wrist, a bright yellow water gun in his hand, his eyes trained on the vampires.

The two that had previously been trying to eat him looked like they were running away, screaming.

"Right," said the Doctor. "Now, then. You all know who and what I am. So I'm going to give it to you straight. If you don't stop killing humans, you're going to die."

The vampires laughed.

"Oi!" said the Doctor. "I'm serious. If you don't shape up and do the right thing, you're doomed. Now, there's a growing community of vampires above the arctic circle, who've given up human blood and decided to live off the local wildlife. Question is, will you join them, or are you prepared to face the consequences of your actions?"

Xander raised up his stake to strike at the vampire nearest him, but before he could do anything, the Doctor had twisted the stake out of his hand.

"Be friendly," the Doctor scolded, waving the stake at him. Then the Doctor dropped it into his pocket, and turned back to the vampires. "Any takers? Doing the right thing and surviving into the next century?"

"How are we going to die?" asked one of the vampires, hesitating. "In the future?"

The Doctor looked them all in the eye, steadily. "Don't you know?"

They shuddered back, muttering something about prophecy, the Slayer, and the day of reckoning. Then they turned, and ran.

Giles, Xander, Willow, and Tara all ran after them, but the Doctor just shrugged.

"Let them go," he said. "They won't harm anyone else for a long, long time."

The Scoobies slowed, then turned back to the Doctor, not sure whether or not to believe him.

Donna was glaring at him. She pointed at him, getting into his face. "Stop trying to kill yourself, Spaceman!" she shouted.

"What?" asked the Doctor. "I wasn't killing myself. I was perfectly fine the entire time."

"We killed one vampire this whole night," said Willow. "That's bad, isn't it?"

Xander frowned, thinking this all through. "Category?"

"Suicidal heroics," Willow offered.

"That's one of the ones we have to live with, right?" asked Xander.

"Yep," said Willow.

"What about those first two vampires?" Giles asked the Doctor. "Did you dispatch them?"

The Doctor beamed. "In a way."

"You let them go, didn't you?" said Xander. He threw his hands up into the air. "Least successful patrol ever!"

The Doctor just grinned at them, a twinkle in his eye.

* * *

Buffy was not expecting the ring at her doorbell. She got up, and found all the Scoobies at her front door, all looking ragtag and worn out.

"Never again," said Xander. "Never, ever, ever again."

Buffy took in their truly flustered appearance, and started laughing. It was the first time they'd seen her laugh in weeks.

"Well, she's laughing," said Willow. "I guess that means this was all worth it. Just to get Buffy to laugh?"

The Scoobies all looked at one another.

"No," they agreed.


	13. A Riley Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Riley Finn is at the end of his rope and falling apart, he reaches out for help. To the Doctor.

The Doctor was done with Riley Finn. Forever.

And there were so many other things going on, what with Buffy's mother going through something that was absorbing all of Buffy's time, and the Doctor trying to work out how to stop the chain of events that was unfolding from doing so (and trying to discover why the universe kept nearly falling apart), and Donna helping the Summers family to handle everything on the domestic side — that, well, Riley Finn was not even important. At all.

If Riley had been an even halfway decent person, maybe the Doctor would have cared enough to shout an "I'll explain later!" at him.

But Riley didn't even warrant that.

For some reason, though, Riley just couldn't come to terms with the fact that he wasn't important. That no one cared about him. At first, Riley had just been content annoying Buffy, but as time passed, Riley seemed to be popping up, more and more, around the Doctor.

(Fortunately, without the guns.)

"She doesn't love you, you know!" Riley shouted at the Doctor, once, leaping out at him randomly.

The Doctor just ignored him, and ran off, trying to track the odd energy signal that he'd discovered nearby. Riley, unable to take the hint, sped after him.

"I know why you do it!" Riley tried. "I get it. There's a rush."

The Doctor thudded the side of the device, as it began to lose the signal. No, no, no! This energy trace might be linked to Glory, and if he could work out the details of what Glory was planning, he could work out a better way to stop her.

"I've started doing it, too!" Riley said. "Paying them to drink my blood. It's… really intense."

The Doctor shot his head up at Riley. "Sorry, paying who to do what?"

"Vampires," Riley said, as if it was obvious. "You know. Like you and Buffy do."

The Doctor blinked at him. "Come again?"

"Oh, come on, you know how it feels!" said Riley. "To be needed and desired like that!"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at Riley. "Like a vampire needs and desires you, you mean? Yes, I know how it feels. I'm just not particularly sure why anyone would _want_ that sort of thing."

"It's hot!" said Riley. "It's… you know. Exciting."

The Doctor turned back to his little device, flipping off the lid and poking around inside. "Last time it happened to me, millions of people were massacred. Maybe more." He flipped around a coil, and reconnected a wire. "I lost my temper. And I'm still trying to repent for what I did as a result."

"But… but… you practically beg the vampires to drink your blood!" said Riley. "I've seen you!"

The Doctor put the lid back on the machine, and it began to ping again. "Not the same thing," muttered the Doctor. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got an alien energy reading that needs tracing."

And the Doctor ran off in the direction his gizmo was indicating.

"Yeah? Well… I… I… I stole a bunch of grenades from the army!" Riley shouted after him.

The Doctor expected no less from someone who wandered around waving loaded guns about. Who would, apparently, wind up doing something horrible and torturous to him in his own future. Who seemed to seek out the sort of vampiric lust and greedy hunger that still lingered in the Doctor's nightmares.

"I could blow myself up!" Riley shouted, again.

The Doctor didn't bother to answer. He had too many things to do. Too many sins of his own — past, present, and future — to repent for. After what Riley did to Donna, the Doctor honestly didn't care what Riley decided to do to himself.

Riley Finn was nothing.


	14. Non-Interference, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor discovers Glory's alter-ego.

Dawn scooted over to the living room table, now littered with junk from all over their house, and inhabited by one hunched over pinstripe-suited figure wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

"What'cha doing?" Dawn asked.

The Doctor looked up at her, and gave her a grin. "Dawn Summers!" he said. "Brilliant to see you. Where's Donna?"

"With Mom and Buffy," said Dawn, venturing a little closer to get a better view of the triangular device the Doctor was constructing. It looked like he'd used just about every roll of duct-tape in the house, along with a lot of rubber bands. Super high tech? Yeah, right! "She heard the word 'shopping' and couldn't resist."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "And you stayed behind…?"

"To see what you were doing," said Dawn. She pointed at the device he was building. "What's that?"

"Trans-dimensional compression field detector," the Doctor explained.

Dawn had no idea what that was. But it sounded super sciencey and stuff, which was a pretty Doctor thing to build. "And what's that do?"

"Detects compression fields," the Doctor told her. "Even the multi-dimensional sort." He reached over for an old, nonfunctioning vacuum cleaner motor which was lying on the table, and pried the casing off. "Which, if it works, will allow me to discover where Glory is hiding." He took out a curled up piece from the motor, then stuck it in his own device.

"I get it," said Dawn. "You're trying to find Buffy's big bad."

"Oh, yes!" said the Doctor. "One big Glory-detector, coming up!" He paused. "And… Slitheen detector, come to think of it." He glanced over at Dawn. "You lot wouldn't happen to have any vinegar around, by any chance?"

"What are Slitheen?" asked Dawn.

"A family of Raxacoricofallapatorians," said the Doctor, adding another rubber band to his device. "Criminal family, to be precise. Rather nasty sort who like to wear hollowed out human skins like Halloween costumes. Usually a bit overweight with a zipper running along their foreheads."

"Cool!" said Dawn. "Can I see them?"

"Well, if they're around, you probably already have," the Doctor replied. "You just wouldn't have known. And I wouldn't call them 'cool', exactly. They don't tend to be particularly friendly. Especially not towards humans."

"Whatever," said Dawn. "That's kind of normal around here."

The Doctor considered. "Suppose so." He glanced over at Dawn, and grinned.

Dawn sat down at the table, beside him. "Can I help?"

"Absolutely!" said the Doctor. He rotated the device towards her, and then began explaining at super-mega-speed about all the little bits and pieces, and how they worked together, and what they did, and all sorts of stuff that Dawn didn't pick up. Then he looked back at Dawn. "Got that?"

"I got the part where you said I could help you," Dawn replied.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Yes. Well. In that case. Could you hand me that BIOS chip, please?"

Dawn glanced around at the selection of junk on the table in front of her.

"The… bit from the old computer," the Doctor clarified.

"Oh," said Dawn. She picked up what looked like a motherboard from the computer that had gotten smashed up when Buffy threw a demon into it, a month ago. Which, apparently, wasn't covered by the warranty. She gave it to the Doctor. "Here."

"Brilliant!" said the Doctor, beaming, and he got back to work.

Dawn smiled. Look at her! She was being helpful! She was being talked to by some kind of alien genius guy like _she_ was some kind of human genius girl, and it didn't matter if she wasn't (or if Buffy had told her a million times that he did that to everyone because he wanted to show off how smart he was), because he was still treating her like she was someone important! Like she was someone besides just the little sister.

"And that… little doohickey with the extension cord," the Doctor added.

"The hairdryer?"

"Yes! That's the one!" The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, wiggling it in the air.

Dawn passed him the hairdryer, and he got to work, taking it apart, placing little bits of it into his own device and then buzzing at sections with his sonic.

"Can I come with you?" Dawn asked. "When you go out to find this big bad and stuff?"

"Rubber band," the Doctor requested.

Dawn handed him a rubber band, and he secured it in place.

"Can I?" she asked him, again.

"Sorry, can you what?" the Doctor asked, not looking up at her.

"Come with you!" said Dawn. "To find the big bad with your little device thing."

"Absolutely!" said the Doctor, eyes still fixed on the device he was now buzzing with his sonic. "You can hold the vinegar. Just don't wander off, do everything I say, and…" He trailed off, as he looked up at her, then glanced around at his surroundings. "Actually… better stay put."

Dawn pouted. "Why? You said I could come!"

"Well, yes," the Doctor conceded. "I did. But then I remembered that you have a sister who's quite a bit stronger than me, and would probably put me through at least one regeneration if I let you tag along. And seeing as I don't have a whole lot of those left, I'd like to keep the ones I still have."

"That's not fair!" Dawn complained.

"Wouldn't exactly put it like that," the Doctor countered. "Not about fair or unfair. More like… difference in philosophies, really. Your sister believes that she lives in her world — with the monsters, and the evil creatures, and the plots to destroy humanity, and all that sort — and everyone she cares about most should live outside of that."

"Which sucks," said Dawn, crossing her arms and pouting.

"Which is one way of looking at it," the Doctor corrected. "Not my way, but certainly a valid way. And, must say, her mortality count is quite a bit lower than mine, on average. So that's certainly in her favor."

"What's your way?" Dawn asked.

The Doctor placed a few more pieces into his device. "Don't like sheltering people," he told her. "Great big universe out there, waiting to be explored. Bout time people started exploring it. Take in the good and the bad. Learn to live up to their own potential." He glanced up at Dawn. "You humans really do have an extraordinary amount of potential, you know."

"See, that's way cooler than what Buffy says!" said Dawn. "You're all taking people out to do stuff, and Buffy's all leaving people behind where it's safe."

"As I said," the Doctor continued, "the mortality count is in her favor."

"I bet if you had a sister, you wouldn't be all, 'stay here where it's safe while I go do cool stuff,'" Dawn muttered. "I mean, you bring Donna along. And you guys are kind of like… you know. Family-ish."

The Doctor didn't answer, just continued cobbling together his device.

"I mean, I get that I'm Buffy's actual _family_ -family, so I'm always gonna be different," said Dawn. "But I'm not a baby. She shouldn't treat me like I'm a baby. You don't."

"If you were a baby," the Doctor said, in a soft voice, "I'd be very, very worried."

"Yeah, see?" said Dawn. "Buffy and Mom are, like, totally smothering me. It's like they're not letting me go out and be all fighting stuff on my own. It's always, 'you're just a kid' and 'you're just the baby' and stuff. These days, it's like Buffy won't let me take two steps on my own."

"It's hard for them to let go, sometimes," the Doctor replied. "Hardest thing in the world, watching your child grow up. Letting them out to make their own way in life. Their own mistakes."

Dawn examined him, carefully. "Wait… you…" She stopped, and collected her thoughts. She'd known he was 900 years old and an alien, but… this was something she hadn't even considered. "Did you have kids?"

The Doctor turned to look at her. A horribly sad glimmer in his eyes. "Sometimes," he told her, "when you lose the ones you love, and everything else of theirs is taken away..." He glanced off into the distance. "It's all I have, Dawn. The memories. If I lost that, they'd be gone forever. My whole family."

Dawn wasn't really sure what to say to this.

"I had a granddaughter, once," the Doctor said. "A long, long time ago. I travelled with her for years. She was about your age — or the Gallifreyan equivalent thereof — when I left her on her own. Allowed her to build a new life and new family in the 22nd century. Then the War broke out, she came home, and…" He stayed silent for a long moment. "Now she's gone," he whispered. He cleared his throat, and continued speaking in a slightly stronger voice. "Wiped out of time and space without a trace to show she ever existed. Nothing of hers survived — none of her diaries, or little trinkets, none of her dresses, not even her TARDIS room. I have nothing. The universe has nothing. No one even remembers her, anymore. No one but me. If I died — when I die — she'll be gone. Lost to the universe forever." He closed his eyes. "Some days, it feels as if she wasn't even real at all."

"That sucks," said Dawn. And she was just thinking, no wonder the Doctor always got super melancholy whenever she was around! His granddaughter had been her age, and the Doctor had been all cool and giving her independence, and then she'd gone off into some huge war and died. Maybe Dawn reminded him of her or something. "But… _you_ still remember her, right? So she's not totally gone or anything."

"Which is better?" the Doctor asked. "To have existed, but remain unremembered, your legacy fading away into nothing, your every impact on the world unraveling in the strands of time? Or to never have existed, but be remembered, loved, cherished, given the chance to make a permanent difference to the world?" His eyes met Dawn's. "What do you think?"

"I dunno," said Dawn. "I guess it's always good to be remembered."

"Even if that memory isn't part of the web of time?" the Doctor asked her. "Even if all those events you remember never actually happened at all?"

"Yeah, but _you_ remember them," said Dawn. "I mean, there was a big war and stuff, and everyone died. None of us might remember it happening, but you do. So it's kind of real, you know?"

"It matters," the Doctor said.

"Uh, yeah," said Dawn, crossing her arms. "That's what I just told you. Geeze!"

"Just checking," the Doctor replied, bending his head down over his work.

But Dawn could still see that horrible sadness in him, and something else, now, accompanying it. Guilt. Shame. Loss. Well, yeah, of course he felt like that! He lost his granddaughter and no one even remembered her! That would totally suck!

"Was she like me?" Dawn asked. "Your granddaughter, I mean?"

"Not... exactly," the Doctor told her, still not looking at her.

"How not exactly?" Dawn prompted. "Was she all superhero and Buffy-like?"

"She was... brilliant," said the Doctor. "Amazing. Beautiful, inside and out."

"And she, like, battled evil monsters and stuff?" Dawn asked.

"No," said the Doctor. "She... felt for them. Reached out to them. Always tried to help, in whatever way she could. Always did her part to make the universe a better place." He stopped his work, his eyes unfocused, as he remembered. "She saw the beauty in everything. Even on Skaro, in the wreckage of a war that turned an entire forest to stone, she found a flower that she thought was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever laid eyes upon."

The Doctor gave a small laugh. "She always got herself into trouble, though. She was like you in that regard. Always wandering off, always getting kidnapped, always winding up right in the thick of it! Dragged me in, too. The French Revolution, Marco Polo, Marinus, the Aztecs, the Sensorites — oh, I remember the Sensorites! She opened up a psychic communication, then ran off to help them after I forbade it. We had such a row after that. Me telling her to be responsible, her telling me I was being heartless. But that... was what made her brilliant. She was always pushing me to think of others, trying to make sure I did the right thing."

The Doctor's hands clutched the device a little tighter, trembling. "She made me a better person, Dawn. She still does. Her memory, everything she was — it's always with me, always inspiring me to be better, to be more compassionate and forgiving, to look past the evil and find that inner spark of goodness in everyone. I'll never forget that. I'll never forget her."

"She sounds pretty cool," said Dawn.

"She was," said the Doctor. He turned back to his device, and every emotion was suddenly erased from his face. He buzzed the sonic at the device, and slipped on a black casing across the back. "Still. Gone now. Wiped out of time and space and the universe. Never even existed, not even real, only alive in memories — that sort of thing."

"I remember her, too, now, though," said Dawn. "See? So that makes her more existy. And, I mean, when you die, you don't have to get all depressed that the universe will lose her forever, because now I know about her, too. So her memory can still be super-mega-inspiring and stuff here on Earth."

The Doctor froze. His eyes fixed on the device. And there was something that appeared in his face. Something icy, something cold, something angry.

"Stop it," the Doctor hissed, through his teeth.

Dawn frowned. "Huh?"

"Just stop this!" the Doctor snapped. His hands were shaking. "I've gone through torture at the hands of the Daleks, I've lived through death and loss and pain and grief, I've even lived through watching Rose tumble into the void. But _you_ …" His eyes grew dark. "You are the biggest torture of all, Dawn Summers! And I _can't_ deal with it!"

"I'm… I'm torturing you?" Dawn asked. "But I thought—"

The Doctor turned on Dawn, his eyes blazing. "Stop being nice to me!" he shouted. "Why? Why, why, why did you have to be such a nice person? Why did you have to start liking me?"

Dawn huddled back in her chair. "I… I didn't…"

The Doctor jumped to his feet. "None of the others ever liked me!" he continued. "They clobbered me across the head, they accused me of bewitching the world, they tried to lock me up forever. Why can't you hate me like them? Why can't you hate me and loathe me and try to kill me?"

"Donna likes you," said Dawn, trying but failing to make her voice sound less like a squeak. "Buffy likes you. And you're nice to me."

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room. "I can't even look at you," he said. "I can't even see you without thinking of everything I've lost. You're the worst thing that's ever come into my life, and yet…" He swung around. "You're brilliant! You're human! You're a shining light of hope out there for everyone to see and fight for! Why did you have to be brilliant? Why did you have to be nice and kind and a wonderful person? Why couldn't you have been mean and spiteful and someone who enjoyed bashing kittens over the head? Why did it have to be like this?"

Dawn had no idea how to begin to react to this. "You… don't like me?"

The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut. "Of course I like you!" he snapped. "That's the problem. That's the whole point! Everything you are, everything you could be, everything you've been, and in the end, all you really are is Dawn Summers. The human being."

"Oh, my God," said Dawn. "I'm not going to grow up to be evil or something, right?"

The Doctor looked away from her. "No."

Phew.

"The universe always does this to me," he muttered. "Every single time. Give me something good, something wonderful, and in the end…." He took a deep breath. "That choice. That's how this'll end. That's how it'll always end. With that always impossible choice that the universe keeps throwing me, over and over again!"

Did this have something to do with Buffy? Or was this him remembering his granddaughter and being all super traumatized and stuff? No, wait, maybe this was his self-loathing thing. Yeah, that had to be it. He didn't want her to like him, because he didn't like himself, and he got pissed off when other people liked him.

"Yeah, well, I like you," said Dawn, sounding braver than she felt. "And I want to be nice to you. So you can just deal with it!"

The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, as if in pain. Then he darted over to her, leaning down to look right into her eyes, and taking her hands in his own.

"Dawn Summers," he said, in a low but earnest voice. "I want you to promise me. Promise that if you're ever in danger, you'll run. Run far, far away from me, and never look back. Never give up. Never let me find you. Promise you'll survive. Please, promise you'll fight for life."

Dawn blinked at him. "I… I guess…"

But she never got the chance to say anything. Because at that moment, Buffy, Donna, and her mother all poured into the house, laughing and chatting and piling up shopping bags by the front door. Donna caught Dawn's eyes, and began going on about their trip, and all the stuff they bought, and how they bought some stuff for her, too.

Buffy darted out to get a few more bags, while the others were talking, excitedly. When she entered, she glanced around the room. Then turned to Dawn.

"Where's the Doctor?" Buffy asked.

Dawn glanced around the room, but the Doctor, and his cobbled-together device, were gone.


	15. Non-Interference, Part II

Ben was working in the hospital, as usual, when he first encountered the strange man. The one with the pinstripe suit, who was waving around a little device with a black case and flashing lights. Maybe he was one of their newly admitted nutcases. Glory's work. Great. Ben hated mopping up after Glory's messes.

"Let me help you," Ben offered him, in a soothing voice. "Let's get you into bed, where you can relax."

The man looked up at him, and beamed. "Actually, rather think I can help you." The man tucked the device into his pocket, and bounced on the balls of his feet. "You wouldn't, by any chance, happen to have a wee bit of a problem with sometimes turning into a very angry, incredibly powerful woman, would you?"

Ben's mouth dropped open. "How… how do you…"

"I'm the Doctor," the man said, offering his hand. "And I think I've got the solution to your problem."

* * *

"You're not supposed to know," the medical intern — Ben, he'd said his name was — informed the Doctor, as they were walking around outside the hospital. "No one's supposed to know."

"But you know," the Doctor pointed out.

Ben gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, because I wake up, sometimes, and find all these tortured or killed people around me, and I'm wearing a dress." He ran a hand through his hair. "I may look like just another human being, but you know what I really am."

"Course I do," said the Doctor. "You're Ben — sorry, what was your last name?"

"Wilkinson."

"You're Ben Wilkinson," the Doctor said. "Medical intern, human being. Completely unique, completely yourself, completely independent from your… somewhat violent alter-ego."

"I'm Glory," said Ben.

"No, you're not," the Doctor insisted. "You're Ben Wilkinson. You just happen to also be acting as a three-dimensional compression field for a twelfth-dimensional being."

"Her prison," said Ben. "A mortal prison for a deposed Hell Goddess."

"Blimey, she's done a number on you, hasn't she?" the Doctor muttered. He took the sonic out of his pocket, and began scanning Ben with it. "Look, really, it's quite simple. She's a multi-dimensional being, who's being squeezed down into three dimensions using a compression field comprised of your genetic makeup. Which, although it's terribly clever, also has the unfortunate side effect of driving the compressed entity completely barmy."

"I've noticed," said Ben.

The Doctor checked the readings on the sonic. "Still, compression field like this should be indestructible," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Impenetrable. Which is clearly not the case. Seeing as she's been somehow managing to seep through the cracks. Breaks in the seventh dimension, at a guess. Bit of leakage going on in there."

"You said that you could help me," Ben pointed out.

"Ah, yes," said the Doctor, putting his sonic back into his pocket. "I can. See, if I'm right — and I usually am — I'm guessing whoever built this compression field into your body built it in rather a hurry. Shoddy workmanship, that sort of thing. If I just fix the compression field, tighten up that seventh dimensional weak spot, you'll have full control, she'll be put back in her place, and all will be well." He grimaced. "Rather a nasty end for her, of course. But, well, she did have her chance."

"You can do that?" Ben asked. He took the Doctor by the shoulders. "Please, don't give me false hope. Can you really make sure I'm always myself?"

"Absolutely!" the Doctor said. Then hesitated. "Well, I say absolutely. Possibly. Well, I say possibly…"

Ben's face fell, and he let go of the Doctor. "I see."

"The process itself is rather trivial," the Doctor explained. "Least, for a brain as brilliant as mine. But I've begun to notice that every time I intervene directly in this affair, the universe nearly falls apart. And as I'm very keen to make sure the universe continues to exist, I'd rather not get involved."

"So you can help me," said Ben. "You just won't." He looked down at the ground. "Thanks. Thanks for letting me know that you can fix my problem, you're just choosing not to."

"Never said that," the Doctor replied. He gave Ben a grin. "Said that I couldn't intervene directly. Never said I couldn't help. Just a matter of finding the right people and getting them to fix this, instead."

"As far as I can tell, you're the only human that can understand what's actually going on," said Ben. "If you don't help me, no one else will."

"Ah, actually…" the Doctor trailed off, deciding that, what with Ben's previous associations with non-terrestrial life, telling Ben that he wasn't human would not be his smartest move. "…I'm quite good at doing the impossible. Bit of a genius, I am."

Ben scoffed.

"Ben Wilkinson," the Doctor said, "I promise. I'll fix this. I'll make sure she never bothers you again."

Ben froze. Then a horrified look spread across his face. "She's coming."

Oh, dear. That was bad. There must be enough of a break in the compression field that Glory could sense certain things from the outside world.

"How much does she know?" the Doctor asked. "How much has she heard?"

"None of it!" said Ben. "She just… knows she has to come out. She always knows." His face contorted, as if in pain.

"Fight her," the Doctor urged. "The human mind is strong! Fight her for control!"

"Get out of here!" Ben said. "If you're around when she emerges, she'll kill you! She kills anyone who doesn't bend to her will!"

"You can reassert control!" the Doctor urged him. "You can get your own mind back, Ben. Just fight! Push back! Hold her at bay!"

"I… I… can't…"

Ben's face suddenly morphed, his hair growing long, his lips growing fuller, his entire body turning feminine, curved, elegant. When he opened his eyes, now gray and cold, he wasn't Ben anymore.

"You again!" Glory shouted.

Oh, dear. Probably should have run for it when he had the chance.

"Yes, hello!" the Doctor chirped. "Terribly nice to see you again. Must dash!" He turned, and sprinted away.

Glory caught him in two strides, and grabbed him by the shoulders, lifting him up off the ground. "Not so fast!" She glared at him, with evil, angry eyes. "You were talking to Ben, right? So… what did you want with him?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her. "I think you already know."

Glory's face burned with rage, and she threw him against the outer wall of the hospital. But the Doctor wasn't restrained, this time. He could slow his own momentum, use his surroundings to his advantage. He hooked his foot around a lamppost, redirecting the momentum and trying to roll back to his feet but instead toppling sideways to the ground. But with a whole lot less force than he should have, which was good.

"I gave you a choice," the Doctor told Glory, getting back to his feet. "Told you. No second chances."

"I am so sick of all these stupid little mortals running around pretending they can defeat me!" Glory said, rolling her eyes. "You think you're so high and mighty just because you fought in some stupid little Time War?"

She lunged out at the Doctor, again, which the Doctor knew was his cue to run. He got nearly to the end of the block, when he found himself suddenly jumped on by a group of troll-like minions, who managed to wrestle him to the ground.

Glory came over to the Doctor. "Bet you weren't expecting my little munchkins, huh?"

"You should treat them with more respect," the Doctor said, as the minions maneuvered him into a sitting position. "They're living beings, just like you. They have their own hopes, their own dreams, their own aspirations—"

"Oh, shut up!" Glory groaned. "You are so boring! Take the hint, Oncoming Snore. They're called 'Minions'. They only exist to serve me and love me. And why shouldn't they? I'm their goddess, after all."

"Too bad you're no one else's," the Doctor said.

Glory kicked him in the face. She looked like she was about to do it again, when she paused, amusement spreading across her lips. "Hey, I just got an idea," she said, squatting down in front of him. "I'm betting you came here to have a little talk with Ben about fixing that prison I'm being kept in. Making sure I get stuck in it again, right?"

The Doctor didn't bother to answer. She knew the answer already.

"Well, it occurs to me that if you can fix Ben over there," Glory continued, "you can also fix me. Get me out of this human prison of mine, kill Ben off completely, and restore me to my real powers. Can't you?"

The Doctor remained silent.

"And when you're all done with that," said Glory, "we can have a little heart to heart about you telling me where my Key is, yeah?" She reached out and scrunched up his hair, like he was a little doggy. "Like a good boy."

"Do you know what would happen," the Doctor told her, "if you ever used something like the Key?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," said Glory. "Universe collapsing, Hell coming to Earth, possibly your entire reality burning to cinders, if I understand that Moment thing you did correctly. Not that it'll matter to me, anyways, when I get home. That stupid Slayer bimbo will probably stop the process before it absorbs my reality, and I'll be safe and sound while the rest of your universe burns."

"If you tear down the walls you need to get back to your home," the Doctor said, "you will destroy everything. Not just this universe, not just your own, but everything. All of time and space."

"Yeah? Well, protecting time and space is your thing," said Glory. "I'm more about the creating death, destruction, and chaos. Now… are you going to do what I say, or do we have to start getting nasty, again?"

"If you do what you're planning," said the Doctor, slow enough that she could understand it, "you will die."

Glory laughed. "Hun, I'm immortal," she said. "I don't die."

"You're not, and you will."

"No," said Glory. She pointed at herself. "Me, Hell Goddess. Immortal. All powerful. Eternal." She pointed at the Doctor. "You, Time Lord. Silly little insignificant speck of dust upon the universe. Mortal. Highly killable. We got that? Good."

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're not a goddess, Glory."

Her mirth died away, and she struck him across the face, her anger flushing through her. "I am a goddess! I am she who cannot be named! The Abomination! The Meyomelae Krvas! Entire galaxies tremble at the legend that is—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said the Doctor. "I've heard the legends. I've heard the stories. And I've also met your sort before. Twelfth dimensional beings? Before the war, used to run into them all the time. You lot may have a truly astounding influence over reality and the universe, but you're hardly gods."

"Your own people once called themselves gods," Glory said. "And they were nothing next to me."

"And look where it got them in the end," said the Doctor. "Look where it got you."

Glory grabbed the Doctor by his tie, choking him, her eyes blazing. She then gave him a very cruel smile. "You know, all these warnings about what my Key could do just confirm what I already thought," Glory said. "You were lying. You didn't destroy my Key; you're just protecting it."

Oh, bugger.

"Tell you what," Glory continued, loosening her grip on his tie and tapping the tip of his nose. "Let's make this a party. I go find your little red headed friend, and then you can see just how much you want to cooperate. You got that?"

"I destroyed the Key," said the Doctor. "You can do whatever you want. Nothing will bring it back."

Glory grabbed one of the Doctor's fingers, bending it backwards until it snapped. He hissed, the pain flaring through him as he tried to divert the blood flow and numb that area of his body.

Glory shushed him, wiping some hair out of his face. "Oh, hun, it'll be okay," she said, with false sympathy in her voice. "You just gotta learn to stop being stubborn and do what I want, and I promise, I'll make the hurting stop."

The Doctor tried to break free, but Glory caught the motion and draped an arm across his back, hugging him closer to her, keeping him in place.

"That what you tell them, too?" the Doctor asked, nodding back at the minions.

Glory grabbed another one of his fingers, and bent it backwards.

"All right!" the Doctor said, before she could snap it. "All right! I give in, I'll help you."

Glory gave a grin, and dropped his hand. "That's more like it."

"Well, always happy to help," the Doctor said, with a smile. "Now, what's it to be? Destroying the compression field, then?"

"That'll do for a start," said Glory. "And then we can talk about my Key." She nodded at her minions. "Take him."

* * *

"I really, really hate it when he does this," said Buffy, running down the street with Donna in tow. "He just runs off into mortal danger, like he's completely invincible, and… Dawn, what are you doing?"

"I'm helping!" said Dawn, running after them, a bottle of vinegar under her arm.

Buffy stopped, and gave Dawn a demanding glare. "Go home."

Dawn stomped her foot. "No!"

"Dawn!"

"Make me!"

"Oi!" Donna interrupted. "You two! Quit the sibling rivalry and get moving on the Slayer-skills. We've got a Spaceman to rescue, here!"

"Yeah," said Dawn to Buffy, pointedly. "I thought you always knew where the Doctor was, anyways. Because of that thing in your head."

"No," said Buffy, "that just tells me if he's around. It doesn't tell me where he is. And… why do you have a bottle of vinegar, anyways? This isn't a cookout!"

"Yeah, well, when you go up against a Slitheen, then you'll wish you brought vinegar, too!" said Dawn.

Buffy gave her sister a pointed look. "Slitheen? How long did it take you to make that one up?"

"It's a real thing!" Dawn insisted. "They're yucky monsters who're overweight with zippers on their foreheads."

Buffy just continued giving her sister the same pointed look.

"At least _I'm_ not the one who spent a whole summer making up monsters just so I could make kissy faces at an alien!" Dawn retorted.

A look of complete and utter annoyance washed across Buffy's face, and she charged forwards. "All right, that's it," she said. She grabbed Dawn by the arm, and began dragging her down the sidewalk. "You're going home. Right now."

"That's not fair!" Dawn said. "The Doctor told me I could come help!"

"Yes, but I'm your sister, and he's not," said Buffy. "So you do what I say."

Donna just watched the two of them bickering, as Buffy dragged her sister back into the house. Yep, this was a pretty typical day in Sunnydale.


	16. Non-Interference, Part III

Glory slammed down her fist, fracturing the gizmo the Doctor had been constructing into a million pieces. "Do you think I'm stupid?" she shouted. She threw the remaining piece of machinery at the Doctor's head, and he only just managed to duck in time. "I know what this is! It's a seventh dimensional energy suplementer!"

"Well, there is that seventh dimensional discontinuity," the Doctor said. "If I just use that to open—"

"You weren't trying to open it!" Glory shrieked. "You were trying to close it! You were trying to trap me! Just like you did that time I sucked your brain!"

The Doctor gave a small grin. "Bet you're not too keen to try that again, are you?"

Glory tried to kick him, but he rolled out of the way at the last moment, and darted towards the door. It was slammed in his face by two minions, standing in front of it. The Doctor turned, his eyes scanning the room for other possible exits.

"You are the most annoying, stubborn person I've ever met!" Glory spat at him. "I just want to go home! Don't you understand? All I want is to go home!"

The Doctor met Glory's eyes with his own. "No, you don't."

That made Glory falter, just a little. She regained her composure. "Oh, is that what this is about? You're upset about the whole reducing your reality to cinder and ash thing?" She gave a sigh. "You mortals can be so uptight about your stupid little problems."

"You don't want to go home, Glory," the Doctor said. "All you want is revenge. Revenge against your two co-rulers — the ones who pushed you out and trapped you here."

"Yes," said Glory. "I do. And to do that, first I need to go home!" She grabbed the Doctor by the chin, her nails digging into his flesh, blood trickling across them. "And you're not helping!" she hissed.

The Doctor bit back the pain, and kept his voice steady. "You're too late."

Glory froze. "What are you talking about?"

"They're dead," said the Doctor. "Both of them."

Glory's words failed her.

"Your home world is no longer a realm of darkness, Glory," said the Doctor. "It's a republic, finally at peace after years of war and bloodshed. You have no home. Nothing to go back to. You're alone."

Glory jerked her hand away, stepping back. "You're… you're lying!" she insisted. "You have to be! I mean, I fought a war against them, and I couldn't even come close to killing them! What could—"

"They joined the Daleks," the Doctor told her. "We had to get rid of them."

"You Time Twerps?" Glory cried. "You think your stupid little four dimensional bodies could get rid of beings as powerful and all knowing as—"

"Hyper-inter-spacial gravitational forces surrounded by a powerful magnetic field, compressed into a super-concentrated plasma core with transdimensional anchors to support it?" the Doctor prompted.

Glory was speechless.

"They're both dead, Glory," the Doctor said. "I should know. I led the charge against them myself. Watched them both disintegrate before my eyes. They're long dead. There's nothing worth going back for."

"You think your stupid little Time War was enough to crush gods?" Glory demanded. "You think your pathetic little conflict was enough to crush the might of—"

"It did," said the Doctor. "It did what you couldn't, Glory. It destroyed men, monsters, and gods alike. Slaughtered the cosmos. Even the White and Black Guardians fled this reality, along with the Eternals, sealing themselves off somewhere safe. I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. But everyone is dead. No one survived the Time War. There's no one left to take revenge on."

Glory fixed her eyes on the Doctor, a spark appearing therein. "There's still you," she pointed out.

The Doctor gave her his best friendly grin. He'd been wondering how long it'd take her to work that out. "So there is! But, well, think about it. Killing me won't help anything. Killing me won't get them back."

"Yeah," said Glory, "but it would be eliminating a liar! And a coward! And a cheat! You think I'm just going to fall for that? You think I'm just going to give up because you say so? I don't care what happened in your stupid little war. I'm going to become the ruler of everything, return home and get my revenge, and you and your entire reality will go up in smoke! How does that feel?"

She stormed up towards the Doctor, murder in her eyes, and anger in her every step.

Which was when one of the minions shouted, "Now!"

And with a sudden zing of energy, the Doctor discovered he was… somewhere else. He could feel that tang in the air.

"Short range teleport," he said. He took out his sonic, and the device (disguised as an ancient scroll — clever, that) burst into flames, and dissolved itself. He turned to the minions. "Blimey, you lot really are quite clever, aren't you?"

"Can… can you really defeat Glory?" said one of the minions. "You… you said you'd defeated the other two."

"Ah, actually, that was a bit of a lie," the Doctor admitted. "Her two co-rulers were still licking their wounds from their war with Glory when the Time War broke out. Didn't join either side. But, well, considering the number of other twelfth dimensional beings we got rid of during the War, it's not actually all that much of a lie."

"But… you can defeat her, right?" said the minion. "Please?"

The Doctor gave them a kind smile. "Absolutely!"

The minions gave a sigh of relief.

"Then… we want you to help us," the minion told him.

The others around them nodded. The Doctor counted six, total, all clothed in the same brown sack-cloth, and all sporting nasty bruises and cuts.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "All of you, or just you six?"

"Most of us decided to continue to worship the abomination," said one of the minions. "But we think you were right. We're tired of being beaten down all the time. We're tired of having to live only to serve someone who wants to destroy all life in the universe. We want to be free."

The others all nodded.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked.

"Anolifonim," the minion replied.

"And I'm Katridelphi," another said.

"And that's Saconiptin, Rotrolintra, Incoloptor, and Farmi," Anolifonim explained.

They seemed so excited and proud to offer their names. As if they'd never before been asked. The Doctor guessed they probably hadn't. Glory didn't seem the type to care about names or identity.

"Well, then, Anolifonim, Katridelphi, Saconiptin, Rotrolintra, Incoloptor, and Farmi," the Doctor told them, "I'd be happy to help you find a new home. One where Glory will never find you, or come near you, ever again."

The six of them began jumping up, hugging one another and dancing. They seemed too excited for words.

The smallest of them — Farmi — came up and hugged the Doctor, too. "Thank you," she said. "This is more than we could ever have dreamed of."

The Doctor looked around at their excited faces, and he allowed a sincerely happy grin to spread across his own. The universe may be cruel, may throw him so many impossible situations, so many instances where thousands died and he could do nothing to stop it, but… this sort of thing… giving lives to those who never had them, giving people a fresh start…

This made it all worth it.

* * *

The Doctor left the six minions on a beautiful, uninhabited world, one with sparkling crystal waters and magnificent sunsets, one where food was plentiful and the weather was kind, and they could live their lives in peace. It was, the Doctor knew, not exactly the generous gift they all thought. He'd brought them to a place far enough away from the rest of the known universe that, even if they'd wanted to cause mischief, they couldn't. There was no threat of their ever being invaded, but there was also no chance for interstellar contact.

The Doctor thought it was very fitting for a group of people who had spent their lives worshipping Glory. Here was a world where they could be free and happy, and a world where the Doctor wouldn't have to worry about them.

The no-longer-minions hadn't noticed the mixed gift, though. They'd been ecstatic about the new world the Doctor had taken them to. They'd started jumping up and down with excitement, and then they'd spun around and started bowing to him, muttering praises to him and worshipping him as if he were some sort of god. Farmi even began taking down his words of warning as 'commandments'.

"No, really, I'm not a god!" the Doctor insisted. "I've never wanted to be a god, I don't believe I'm a god, and I have no intention of ever believing I'm a god. I'm a man travelling around in a blue box. That's it."

But that hadn't exactly stopped them from groveling at his feet as he left them to get on with their lives. Perhaps, the Doctor thought, that was the secret behind these minions. They weren't evil or without conscience, nor were they stupid or insane, they were just… really, really devoted. With all their hearts, minds, and souls. They needed something or someone to worship, all the time, and once they had that devotion, it was very difficult to break.

But the Doctor was very good at being annoying. And if he was annoying enough to villains, they always lost their temper, and struck out at their minions or lackeys or servants. Which was usually enough to convince these faithful servants to abandon their mistress.

At any rate.

Time to get back to work! Glory. Ben. Dawn. All that sort of thing. Time to figure out how to fix this whole situation without nearly collapsing the universe, again. The Doctor fixed up his hand using the technology at his disposal in the TARDIS, then rematerialized outside the Magic Box.

He burst inside the store just in time to see someone he'd never laid eyes on before — a skinny young woman with short amber hair — fleeing into the back of the store. Well, none of his business. He had more important matters to deal with.

At the moment, the primary one was placating a very angry Donna Noble.

"You left without me?" Donna said.

"Actually… well, sort of…" the Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Just a bit of a jaunt. Nothing big."

"You left without me!" Donna said.

"Donna, really, it wasn't anything important," the Doctor told her. "Nothing at all. Just a sort of… well, bit of a lift, you could say. Refugees. That sort of thing."

"You saved some people, didn't you?" Buffy asked.

"Well, yeah," the Doctor admitted.

"You saved people without me?" Donna demanded.

"It wasn't planned!" the Doctor told her. "Spur of the moment type thing. Really, nothing important. Promise."

Donna crossed her arms. "Fine. But you better not be thinking of going off without me again, Spaceman. You got that?"

"Absolutely!" said the Doctor. He turned to the others, and gave them a wide smile. "Well? Aren't you going to ask me what I found out?"

"What you found out about what?" said Buffy. "I thought you just saved some people and came back."

"Before all that," said the Doctor. "With my trans-dimensional compression detector!"

"Glory?" Willow guessed. She glanced at the Doctor's hands. "I mean, just, you know, judging by the injuries."

Looks like the Doctor missed a few bruises with the dermal regenerator. Well, he'd fix those up, later. Important thing was the bones were no longer broken, which was very nice for him.

"Not exactly." The Doctor put his hands into his pockets. "I found Glory's alter-ego."

"So you found… Glory when she's actually a really nice person who gives orphans candy?" Buffy asked.

"Basically, yes!" the Doctor said. "Rather pleasant fellow by the name of Ben Wilkinson. Medical intern down at the hospital."

"That's the guy who sat with Dawn while your mom was having trouble, right?" Willow asked Buffy.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "I remember him." She glanced over at the Doctor. "So, what about him?"

The Doctor peered at them. Had they just missed what he'd told them? "Well, he's Glory."

The entire group, including Donna, stared at him with completely blank faces.

"Perhaps the Doctor has a point, of sorts," Giles put in, when the silence had gotten extremely awkward. "We might need some outside help with this whole Glory business. Although, I have to admit, I'm not certain a medical intern is exactly the help we need."

"He's the one who needs help!" the Doctor said. "I can't intervene directly. Every time I do, there's a universal temporal readjustment. But you lot can go right in, tighten up the compression field, and all your troubles will be over."

Once again, a sea of blank faces surrounded the Doctor.

"Are you saying that Ben's in trouble?" said Willow.

"I'm saying that Ben can turn into Glory!" the Doctor told them. "And… why are you lot not working that out?"

"I get that working in a hospital is big on the stress factor," said Xander, "but I think that finding super-angry-beating-people-up lady is kind of bigger."

"Donna," the Doctor said, turning to her. "You have to understand."

"You. Are. Bonkers!" Donna told him. "We're trying to find someone super evil that's going to destroy the universe, and you waltz off to have a chat with an overworked medical intern?"

The Doctor turned to Buffy. "Elizabeth?"

"He was really nice to Dawn," said Buffy. "I mean, maybe we can give him a fruit basket or something. Since this whole Glory thing is going nowhere."

"Yeah, I mean, if not even the Doctor can find Glory, then I guess there's kind of no chance," said Willow.

The Doctor's mirth drained away. "She's done something," he muttered. "Altered the fundamental programming of the universe. A logical loop pattern holding you in stasis."

"And we're back to the crazy techno babble," Xander said. "Good to be back on familiar ground."

The Doctor looked out at the blank faces around him, the clueless faces that would never, ever understand. And he realized what Ben had told him. No human would ever be able to understand Ben's connection to Glory. If the Doctor couldn't intervene, himself, no one else would be able to. And if the Doctor intervened, then he risked another universal temporal readjustment.

Or even a universal collapse.

He knew. He knew what these events were headed for. He knew where the universe wanted him to wind up. An impossible choice. A decision that would make him hate himself. Just one more instance where the universe was unspeakably cruel and unfair to him.

"Doctor," said Buffy, "are you okay?"

The Doctor didn't bother to answer. He just turned, and left.

* * *

Buffy found the Doctor a few blocks away from the Magic Box, sitting on top of a dumpster, fiddling with his sonic screwdriver. She sat down, next to him.

"Donna's worried about you, you know," she said.

"Surprised she hasn't come out here, herself," said the Doctor.

Buffy had been, too. But Donna had been very insistent about it. Buffy was going to walk out there and "set Skinny straight". And Buffy had kind of been grateful, to tell the truth.

The Doctor looked over at Buffy. "I'm going to kill your sister."

"Stop saying that," said Buffy. "I know you're not."

"Have to," said the Doctor. "There's a chain reaction occurring, here. One I cannot stop, or even slow. The moment I get too involved, the moment I try to change things, the universe writes me out. I know where this is going to end, Elizabeth. It's your sister, or the multiverse."

"You're trying to make me beat you up again, aren't you?" said Buffy. She crossed her arms. "I'm not beating you up."

"You should," said the Doctor. "In another timeline, you would."

"You killed other-me's sister?" Buffy asked.

"No," said the Doctor. "She never had… this whole thing never…" He slumped. "She… claimed I killed her mother."

Oh. Well, that explained a lot. That must be why he was so scared of Buffy's mom. Because he was terrified that, somehow, in this timeline, he'd wind up killing a member of Buffy's family. (Both timelines matched, right?) If not Dawn, the Doctor was scared it might wind up being Buffy's mother.

"Did you?" Buffy asked.

"Course not!" said the Doctor. "Wasn't even there. She was just… looking for something to fight, I suppose. Someone she could take revenge on. Make it all better."

"She sounds less and less like me all the time," said Buffy.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that."

"I'm not going to kill you," Buffy said. "Because you're not killing my sister. If you were serious about it, you'd just do it instead of complaining at me about it."

The Doctor gave a small sigh. "I'm going to," he told her. "In the future. If it comes down to a choice between your sister or everything else in the infinity of the multiverse, I'm not choosing your sister."

"If you want to kill her," said Buffy, "you'll have to kill me, first."

"No, I won't," the Doctor said.

And it was true. Buffy and him both knew it was true. He was clever and strategic enough that no matter what Buffy did, he'd find a way to keep her alive.

(But even if he didn't, even if he couldn't, Buffy knew he'd go through with it, anyways. To keep the universe alive, he'd make any sacrifice. It was his duty.)

"I know what you'll do to me," said the Doctor. "When this is over. Should have known from the beginning, really. No such thing as a second chance. In any timeline, in any set of circumstances, this is how we'll always wind up. As mortal enemies."

"I'm not the one making you my enemy," said Buffy.

The Doctor gave a dry laugh. "She said that, too."

And the more Buffy heard, from this earlier Doctor, about Elizabeth, the less she wanted to be like her counter-part. The more worried she became when she realized she could fall into that trap — so very, very easily.

"Why can't you just be like you used to, last year?" Buffy asked. "Doing the right thing and being completely good and virtuous and wonderful? It was so much easier back then!"

"Elizabeth," said the Doctor, "if I do the right thing, your sister dies."

"But she doesn't have to!" said Buffy. "I could change things. Change the future! If you can't get involved, then I will."

The Doctor sighed. "She said that, too," he said. "She was going to change the future. Make things right. Save everyone. But by trying to change the future, she fell into it."

Buffy didn't say anything.

"By the end of this, either your sister will be dead and you'll want to kill me," the Doctor told Buffy, "or there won't be a multiverse left for you to kill me in."

"Shut up!" Buffy snapped. She found herself clutching the side of the dumpster tight enough that her knuckles were turning white. She snapped her head around to look at the Doctor. "I'm not other-me. I'm not going to kill you. Ever."

"And if it were anyone else, what would you do?" the Doctor asked. "If it were Riley Finn, or Willow, or Xander, or even just your local villain-of-the-week, how would you react?"

Buffy didn't answer.

Riley said she had a double standard. That she let the Doctor get away with things she'd never let any of the rest of them get away with. And… damn it, Riley was right. Because if it were anyone else, she really would hack them into little tiny pieces.

But not the Doctor.

"Doctor," said Buffy, in a cold voice, "if you kill my sister, I swear I'm going to make sure that you live. Because I want to make sure that you never, not for a single second, forget that you killed an innocent girl. I'm going to make you live with seeing me hurt and alone and in pain, I'm going to make you live with my mom completely torn up about losing her baby girl. I'm going to make you live with the pain, the loss, the guilt, until it eats away at you and makes you nothing, because you will never, ever forget her. Do you understand?"

"I'd rather you just killed me," said the Doctor.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "That's the point."

The Doctor shook his head. "Sometimes, I don't know if your job is to torture me, or help me."

Buffy gave a sigh. "I feel that way about you, too."

* * *

That afternoon, the Doctor tried to intervene directly. Fix Ben himself, and get rid of Glory.

The universe wrote him out.


	17. TV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Riley leaves, Buffy discovers the presence of an alternate self. And the revelation that she's forgetting something important. Or someone.

Riley had known.

He wasn't sure how or why or who had told him, but the moment he saw the date — December 19, 2000 — he knew that this was the end. This was the moment when Buffy and him were over.

And as he left Sunnydale, in that helicopter, not once looking back on the town that had caused him so much pain, he felt — relief. As if a great weight had been taken off of his shoulders.

It almost made the soul-crushing grief of losing Buffy bearable.

* * *

Buffy raced out as the helicopter left, trying desperately to reach Riley in time. She shouted at him, but he didn't hear her. And as she watched the helicopter leaving, taking off into the skies and fading out of sight, Buffy just kept wondering — what had gone wrong? What had possibly gone wrong between them?

They'd been wonderful together. Their entire romance had been going great! How had it come to this? Why would Riley think she didn't love him? Why would Riley go off and pay vampires to suck his blood, then think she wouldn't mind?

Where had it all come from?

Buffy walked home, questions circling around in her head. She'd lost Riley. This wonderful, amazing guy, and he'd just slipped through her fingers, like a thousand grains of sand.

She felt so utterly alone.

She went into the house, and was going to race up to her room, when her eyes rested on a VCR tape that had a sticky note attached to it. A sticky note with her own handwriting. She picked it up. That was weird. She didn't remember writing that, or putting a tape there.

The note said, "Watch me."

Buffy put the tape into the VCR.

It was a camcorder video of herself, looking almost exactly the way she was, now. Except… she seemed panicked. Worried. Buffy looked at the date at the bottom right corner of the screen. This had been recorded only a few days ago. But… she didn't remember recording this!

"Buffy," her TV self said. "I know you're going to go all, 'wait, I didn't make this recording, it has to be a demon!' But you did, you just don't remember. Please, please believe me. I'm you! I…" She trailed off, her eyes fixed into the distance. Then, they illuminated. "Oh, you remember in fourth grade, when you saw that weird hobo around that dumpster, and you thought he looked exactly like Arnold Schwarzenegger? I couldn't have known that unless I was you!"

Buffy's eyes were glued to the TV. She wasn't really sure what to do. Should she shut this off, take it to Giles, or…

"Don't shut me off!" the TV Buffy shouted. "I know you're thinking about it. And then you're going to take this to Giles, and he'll go all, 'well, that's terribly troubling, Buffy,' and then you'll think that this is magic or something, but it's not. This is real! I'm real! I mean, you're real, too, but… oh, this is really confusing."

Real-world Buffy agreed. Really confusing.

"I can't explain what's going on," said TV Buffy, "because if I do, I don't think this tape will make it through into the… whatever world where I forget everything. But… this isn't the first time you've tried to leave yourself notes and stuff. It's just they keep getting blanked. Removed. And I think I've worked out why. So… I'm not going to mention him at all, just…" She leaned into the camera. "You feel like there's something missing, right?"

Buffy blinked. Yes. She did.

"Something's wrong," said TV Buffy. "And you don't get why or how or what's going on. But you're right. You are missing something. And I'm missing something, too. It's like… the universe changes, and suddenly, I remember a totally different set of things happening. Until it changes back."

So this was a Dawn-Key-Monks thing, then? More implanted memories?

"It's… it's not what you're thinking," said TV Buffy. "And, yeah, I know what that is, but I'm not going to say it out loud because… you know how Dawn likes to snoop around and stuff. This is something bigger. Something worse. You're forgetting… big stuff. Really important stuff." She sighed. "God, this is really, really difficult without mentioning anything too specific."

"So just get to the point, already!" Buffy shouted at her TV self.

TV Buffy seemed to hesitate for quite a while, still clearly trying to finish her previous thought. Then, eventually, she gave it up. "Whatever. It's not important — I mean, it's super duper important, one of the most important things in your life, but… for now, just forget it. Look, this tape's actually a warning. About Riley."

Buffy stared at her TV self.

"I know you're going to say that he's perfect and wonderful!" TV Buffy said. "But… please… please… break up with him! I've been trying to do that for months, now, and it keeps getting erased! Riley isn't perfect, he isn't wonderful, he's just… creepy, and… kind of insane, and…" She shook her head. "The only reason you and I couldn't see it before is because we're getting swept up by the darkness ourselves."

Buffy couldn't even speak. Whoever or whatever this person on TV was, she was really angry at Riley. Like… really, really angry at Riley!

TV Buffy slumped a little. "Yeah, okay, I'm pretty sure that didn't work," she said. "Cause I remember some stuff from when I'm you, and I know you're completely in love with him. But… if you do nothing else, just… stop sleeping with him! Please, please, please, stop doing that! Because I still remember when you're done, and…" She shuddered. "If you had any idea what he's done, you'd never touch him, again!"

Buffy felt her jaw drop open, and didn't know whether or not to close it. The pain in her TV self's eyes was apparent. Her TV self was really, really upset at Riley, upset in a way that seemed to go all the way down into her soul.

"He's… jealous," said TV Buffy. "He's always been jealous, but since he locked up… last year…" She shook her head. "Whatever. Since then, it's gotten worse. Like he's trying to prove something. And… I mean, he shot someone in my bathroom, and… just please, stop sleeping with him! You have no idea how completely gross it is!" She paused, then laughed. "He's been completely desperate to get me back. Spike says he's been paying vampires to drink his blood. He thinks that'll make me like him, again."

Buffy's eyes flicked down to the date on the TV screen, again. It really was taken a few days ago. If she'd known about this a few days ago, why hadn't she confronted Riley then?

"I… talked to him about that," said TV Buffy. "I mean, I don't want to be with him intimately, anymore, but… this kind of thing… it's got to stop! And he just told me it was exactly what…" She closed her eyes. "Riley's right. There is a double standard. But… it's different when it's… I mean, I guess…" She cringed, then opened her eyes again. "The truth is… I don't think there's anything he _can_ do to make me love him, again. Ever since I found out what happened down in the Initiative, things have gotten worse and worse between us. I stopped telling him some things, then I stopped telling him more and more things, and eventually, I just… didn't want to be with him. I don't think I hate him, but… I can't love him. Ever again."

All the things that Riley had accused her of. All the things that Riley had believed of her.

"There's… someone else in my life," TV Buffy whispered. "Someone… amazing. Someone…" she gave a small laugh, "who just drives me crazy, sometimes. Oh, God, some days, I just want to hit him or… kiss him or… I don't know. But when no one else believes in me, he does. When I'm in trouble, he always tries to help." She looked off into the distance, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Some days, I think I'd give up anything for him. Anything at all. And then other days, I get so pissed off at him, I just want to clobber him until he can barely stand. But… when I think about the possibility that I might forget him… might think he never existed…"

Buffy was stunned. This TV self of hers was so emotional about this. So devoted to this other-someone in her life. Who was it? That was what Buffy couldn't imagine. Was this other-her in love with Xander or something? No… no… that couldn't be it.

TV Buffy blinked, then seemed to realize that she was still on camera.

"Sorry," said TV Buffy. "I kind of… forgot. About the camera." She gave a dry laugh. "If Dawn's watching this, I'm not going to hear the end of it for a week." She wiped at her eyes, even though they were dry, as if expecting that she'd find some teardrops trapped in her lashes. Then she looked back at the camera. At real-life Buffy. "Leave Riley. Or at least stop sleeping with him. And… remember. There's someone else. Someone out there, who you can't live without. Someone you're not remembering, and the fact you're not remembering him is tearing you apart. Just…" TV Buffy ran a hand through her hair. Then her eyes lit up. "I know!" She ran off camera, then arrived back, a bright red notebook in her hands. She held it up to the camera. "This," she said. "This notebook. This isn't blank. You have to remember. This notebook isn't blank! It's—"

Then the footage blinked off, dissolving into static.

Buffy replayed the message several times. But it didn't help. She couldn't understand what was going on.

* * *

"It's curious," Giles admitted, after watching the recording through. "Very curious, in fact."

"Is it actually Buffy?" Willow asked. "I mean, it looks like Buffy, and it sounds like Buffy. But… she doesn't remember what we remember."

"I think she is me," said Buffy. "When she was speaking, she kept saying exactly what I was thinking. And that thing she said about Arnold Schwarzenegger was true."

"It's possible," Giles admitted. "Although it would be far more likely that this is some sort of trick or spell, designed by a demon for some… nefarious purpose I cannot deduce, at the moment."

"Or Glory," said Tara. "For… whatever she wants."

Buffy hadn't thought about that. She didn't know who Glory was, or what she could do, but if she could do something like this… she'd work out that Dawn was the Key in seconds!

"Well, we'll certainly be careful about it," Giles said, ejecting the tape. "Keep our eyes and ears open."

"Do you think this is like that Jonathan thing last year?" asked Buffy. "Like, this is some other-world that's being controlled by a spell, and we have to see through the illusion to make things work?"

Everyone looked over at Anya, who was cheerfully rearranging her money in the cash register. She looked up at them, suddenly realizing that they were speaking to her. "What?"

"Is this another world?" Xander asked her. "Some… altered world without shrimp or something?"

"Oh, no," said Anya, turning back to her money. "We've got shrimp. I checked."

"No, that's not—" Xander started.

"It doesn't matter," said Willow. "Anya didn't know any more than the rest of us, with Jonathan's world. I mean, it's kind of impossible to penetrate that kind of illusion."

"Buffy knew," Anya supplied.

Everyone's eyes turned to Buffy.

Buffy swallowed. She… had known before all the others, hadn't she? But it was kind of… weird. Like… something felt off, and she had to work out what.

The way that something felt off, now, and she couldn't put her finger on what it was. The way that things kept not adding up.

"Why would someone want to change the whole world?" Giles mused.

"Oh, they're not," said Anya, counting the one dollar bills. "If that recording's correct, everything's just the way it always is. You're just missing a person."

* * *

Buffy sat outside, near the Magic Box, staring down at the ground, pointedly. Trying to let all of this sink in.

"Elizabeth?"

Buffy's eyes shot up, and there, standing in front of her was… Rose.

"That's not my name," Buffy told her.

"You still answered to it," Rose pointed out.

Buffy glanced down at the ground again. "Why don't I remember you until you show up, again? Why am I not remembering stuff that's going on in my life? What's wrong with me?"

"You're… not just Buffy Summers," Rose said. "You're also Elizabeth."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," Rose admitted. "That's the kind of thing the Doctor would explain."

"So why'd you say it, then?" Buffy demanded. "My name is Buffy. It's always been Buffy. I'm not this… Elizabeth."

Rose raised up the yellow disk, so that Buffy could see. "This is a dimension cannon," she explained. "It sends me through the walls between universes, but it also… reads timelines. And yours… is weird." She lowered the disk, staring at it, thoughtfully. "Sometimes, it's almost as if… there's two of you."

"That's just stupid," said Buffy. Even though it sounded a lot less stupid now than it would have before she found that tape. She faltered. "If there's some… other me out there… can she change stuff for this me?"

"I don't know," said Rose.

"What do you know?" Buffy demanded. "Why do you keep showing up? Your Doctor isn't here! Just go away and leave me alone!"

Rose said nothing for a long moment. Then nodded, and turned around to go.

"I'm sorry," Rose told her, as she disappeared.


	18. The Setup, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Formal Short Story Summary_ : Dawn and Donna decide it's high time that Buffy and the Doctor got together. But a picnic is never just a picnic with the Doctor and Buffy.
> 
>  _Author's Short Story Summary_ : I... um... just shoved the Doctor and Buffy into the most ridiculous internet sex cliches imaginable. And then turned it into a story. Complete with actual plot-line, symbolism, and cannonical tie-ins.
> 
> (By the way, in case you're wondering, the Seventh Segment is, in fact, the fanfic where the Doctor's "yet" from Nothing actually happens.)

"They're totally perfect for each other," Dawn told Donna, one day. "They both have that whole superhero thing going on, they both have massive guilt issues, they're both clearly in love with each other. If they could just admit it…"

"Ha!" said Donna. "You think Spaceman's going to admit that he's actually in love with someone? The bloke who keeps insisting that he and Rose were 'just mates'? If you're waiting for Skinny, it'll be a long wait."

Dawn frowned. "Buffy won't make the first move," she said. "She's super freaked out that the Doctor might say no."

"Just because Slayeretta broke up with her bloke doesn't mean anything's actually going to happen," Donna said. "I've been trying to get them to snog each other forever, now. I'm practically shoving your sister out the door every time Skinny goes out to mope. And still, nothing!"

"Yeah," Dawn said, slumping. Then, her eyes lit up. "Wait. I just got an idea!"

Donna raised an eyebrow at Dawn.

"Well, if neither of them are going to make the first move, why don't we just… push them in the right direction?" said Dawn. "Like… more aggressively."

"What, you mean like a setup?" Donna asked.

"Yeah!" said Dawn. "We send them off on a candlelit dinner or something romantic, and they'll totally be all over each other at the end."

Donna gave a small sigh. "Considering their luck, if we sent the two of them off — together — to somewhere romantic, there'd be a 90% chance that the restaurant would be attacked by aliens, demons, or both."

Dawn had to admit, that was kind of true. Both Buffy and the Doctor were serious trouble magnets, and combined, they'd be doubly serious trouble magnets.

"Besides," said Donna. "Skinny would try to get out of it. Give him a domestic situation, and he heads for the hills."

Dawn cringed. "So… no meals or anything."

"Not unless they eat on the run," said Donna. She gave a barking laugh. "Might as well give them a picnic basket and a sack lunch."

"There has to be something we can do!" Dawn insisted. "Just to get them past the awkward stuff and right to the kissing and handcuffs and things."

"Handcuffs?"

"Oh, yeah, Buffy has these super bondage fantasies," said Dawn. "I read them in her diary, last year. She sort of has this one where she gets out these handcuffs, and then she—"

"Oi!" said Donna. She pointed her index fingers, and crossed her arms in front of her. "Don't go there. No disturbing Spaceman sex fantasies while I'm around."

"Maybe if we give Buffy the handcuffs," said Dawn, "she'll get the message." She hesitated. "Or… get really mad at me for reading her diary."

"Probably the latter," Donna said.

"Yeah," said Dawn.

Donna tilted her head. "Although, it does give me an idea," she said, with a small smile.

* * *

"Okay, I'm not one for suspicions, but… this is suspicious," said Buffy, her hand over the picnic basket in her lap. "Dawn never does super domestic stuff like this, she never lends out her special lucky picnic basket, and… Doctor, if you crash Giles' car, he's going to get seriously pissed off at you!"

The Doctor grinned at Buffy, then shoved his foot down all the way on the accelerator, and shouted, "Wheee!"

Buffy gripped the picnic basket tighter, as the Doctor nearly rolled the red convertible while turning a corner. "You're almost as bad a driver as I am!"

"It's brilliant, isn't it?" the Doctor shouted back.

And Buffy wasn't sure if he was ignoring her, or if he actually hadn't heard.

"Do you even know where we're going?" Buffy asked.

"Of course I know where we're going!" the Doctor replied. "I always know where we're going!"

"I'm just saying that this doesn't look like Erdulum's Fields!" Buffy said, looking at the shady, abandoned buildings surrounding her. "It doesn't even look like any field!"

"It's a short cut!" the Doctor assured her. His eyes gleamed in excitement, as he whipped out the sonic screwdriver, buzzed at the dashboard, and the car zoomed off even faster.

"At least in a car, you can only get lost in 2 dimensions!" Buffy shouted at him, over the wind.

The Doctor slammed his foot on the breaks, and Buffy would probably have flown out of the car, if it weren't for her seatbelt. She took a second to catch her breath.

Then noticed that they still weren't anywhere near a sunlit field.

"Doctor," Buffy started.

But the Doctor shushed her, his eyes fixed on the building just beside them. There was that hint of curiosity on his lips, seeping into his eyes and making his fingers itch to work out the answers.

"You're finding trouble, again, aren't you?" Buffy asked.

"What? Me? Never!" said the Doctor, parking the car and jumping out without opening the door.

Buffy sighed, and followed him, picnic basket still tucked under her arm. She stood beside him, looking up at the building. "What's so special about this abandoned office building, anyways?"

"Recognize the symbol," said the Doctor, pointing to the logo adorning the outside of the building. "Suspiciously like the symbol for 'warning' in the colloquial trade lingo in this section of the Milky Way. Bit odd, don't you think?"

"No," said Buffy. "What would be odd is if you turned around and didn't go inside to investigate. Or if you went inside to investigate and found out that everything was totally normal. Or…"

But the Doctor was already over by the locked up doors of the office building, buzzing at the padlock with his sonic screwdriver.

"…if we'd actually gone on the picnic," Buffy sighed.

She looked down at the picnic basket. How stupid was she, thinking this might actually work? When Donna had shoved the basket into her arms and demanded that she and Skinny go off and have fun together, Buffy had almost hoped that maybe… they could talk.

About… what they had going on between them. And where it was leading to. And what it meant.

This… relationship between the Doctor and herself wasn't really just friendship. Even last year. Riley had known that. It had torn her and Riley apart, and now that Riley had finally left Sunnydale, all Buffy felt was… well, relief.

But, of course, the Doctor probably knew exactly why Buffy wanted a normal picnic, and exactly what Buffy wanted to talk about with him. Which was why he had decided to look for trouble, instead of a good spot to have a picnic.

Maybe they'd get a chance to eat while they were running for their lives.

Buffy went over to the Doctor, as the padlock clicked open. With a grin, the Doctor opened the door.

"Care to join me?" He asked, offering her a hand.

"Breaking into a building where we'll probably wind up in serious danger and fighting for our lives?"

The Doctor beamed at her.

Buffy sighed, but took his hand. "You're such a bad influence on me."

"Life's no fun if you don't take a few risks!" the Doctor told her, as he pulled her inside.

"Yeah, but there's taking risks, and then there's you," Buffy said. "If there was a door marked, 'this way to the eternal torments of Hell,' you'd totally open it just to see what was inside."

"Well, I'd have to," the Doctor argued. He paused by the wall, upon which lay a placard which read, 'Origins, Inc.' "Have to make sure that the label matches what's behind, at any rate." The Doctor then spun around, and continued to walk down the corridor. "Free the oppressed, rescue the tormented, that sort of thing."

"You're just lucky you have me along to beat up the monsters, for you," said Buffy. "I have no idea how you possibly managed to stay alive for 900 years without me."

"I'm very lucky!" the Doctor replied. He stuck his free hand into his pocket, as they passed what looked like an abandoned scientific laboratory. "What? Don't you like it? Exploring the unexplored? Solving the unsolvable? Seeing what no one's ever seen before?"

"I like…" Buffy trailed off. She was about to say, "I like _you_ ," which was the real reason she was doing all of this. But she thought better of it. "I was never this curious before I met you, you know," Buffy amended.

The Doctor stopped, suddenly. His eyes staring off down the white corridor, his lips pursed, his mind clearly churning through some set of possibilities. Buffy was about to ask him what was going on, when she heard it.

The clomp of boots. Lots of boots. Heavy-sounding boots.

They spun around to face the noise, as its source emerged into the hallway. It was a large army platoon, filled with heavily armed human-looking soldiers. Although, Buffy knew from experience, that didn't necessarily mean they were human. She tried to reach out with her Slayer senses, but those senses were all acting… kind of weird, right now. Like they were spinning in circles.

The soldiers all pulled out their guns, and aimed them at Buffy and the Doctor.

"You have trespassed," said the head soldier.

The Doctor and Buffy both raised their hands in surrender.

"Terribly sorry about that," the Doctor said, not even fazed by the emergence of guns — typical. "Bit turned around. We were looking for Archeon, but I think we might have made a wrong turn right around Beetlejuice, because we wound up here, instead. Don't suppose you could—"

"The punishment for trespassing is death," said the head soldier.

Buffy and the Doctor looked at one another.

Then they turned, and ran.

"I can't take you anywhere, can I?" Buffy shouted at him, as they turned down another corridor.

"What?" asked the Doctor. "This is brilliant! There has to be something important, here, if they're trying to kill us!"

"Maybe they're just not very nice!" Buffy said. "I mean, they are aliens!"

"Aliens?" the Doctor said. "Course not! They're human!"

"What?" Buffy cried.

The Doctor was about to respond, when the sound of charging energy guns sounded from around the bend in front of them. "Humans bearing very sophisticated technology," the Doctor muttered.

Buffy could hear the clomp of boots behind them, and gestured at him to try to make sure he knew that they were cornered.

The Doctor darted his eyes around the corridor, then grabbed her by the arm and tugged her into a closet, locking it with his sonic screwdriver.

Buffy tried to keep the blush off her cheeks, as she smushed up against the Doctor in the cramped closet. She was so close to him, pressed against him and surrounded by him, able to be completely surrounded by the essence of all that was Doctor, able to fall into it and pretend she could immerse herself in him.

He wiggled behind her. "Bit cramped," he whispered.

Then he stilled, as the footsteps came closer and closer to their closet. Almost subconsciously, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer to him, and Buffy turned to face him, wrapping her own arms around his waist, and trying to make out his face in the darkness.

Why did she like this guy so much?

He could be everything she absolutely hated. Someone who'd seem to be interested, but would run off if she actually tried to take things past a certain point. Someone who gave vampires a chance, but wasn't willing to give her little sister one. Someone who lied all the time, left her behind, worked against her on patrols, and drove her completely crazy.

Riley had been right. There was nothing that Riley had done that the Doctor hadn't done, as well. But Buffy forgave the Doctor all of it, even if she couldn't for Riley. And, no, it didn't make sense. Not at all.

Except… it kind of did.

Because it wasn't about that. It wasn't about the little things. It was about how, when Buffy had been with Riley — particularly at the end — she'd felt as if she were fighting a constant battle. He wanted her to prove that she loved him, prove it in heroics and daring dos and tremendous sacrifices. Towards the end, she just… honestly… didn't like being with him.

But when the Doctor was around… Buffy felt happy. Horrible things still happened — sometimes just because this was Sunnydale, sometimes just because she was Buffy and horrible things always happened around her, and sometimes because he was the Doctor and horrible things always happened around him — but when he was around, the world seemed like a better place. Her life felt like it didn't suck so much. Every single part of her felt… not just happier, but more at peace with herself.

Buffy felt herself squeeze him a little tighter. As if she could squeeze tight enough that she'd melt into him, become a part of him as he'd become a part of her. They weren't perfect, neither of them, but they were Buffy and the Doctor, and that was enough.

The clomp of boots got closer and closer, and then one of the guards shouted, "They're in here!"

Okay, scratch that. It wasn't enough. Enough would be Buffy and the Doctor alive, as opposed to Buffy and the Doctor as Human-Time Lord Barbeque.

She tried to shift into a fighting stance, but it was too cramped in that tiny little space. Darn it, she was going to have to spring out and act on instinct, wasn't she?

"Hm…" said the Doctor.

Buffy blinked up at him. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the wall behind him, sonic still in hand, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes.

"What?" asked Buffy, as she heard the soldiers outside trying to knock the door in.

"This," said the Doctor, buzzing the sonic, "isn't a wall."

The wall shimmered, then dropped away to reveal a vast unfolding of land and grass and sun, a magnificent city perched in the distance.

Buffy loosened her arms, as the Doctor stepped out of the closet, out of her grasp, and into the bright, sunlit meadow. He closed his eyes, and breathed in, a smile dancing across his face.

"Brilliant!" he said.

Buffy stepped out, too. Behind her, the wall began to cement itself back into place, the hint of the outside world growing fainter and fainter, replaced with sky and woods and trees. Buffy's instinct was to run forwards and hold the door, but she could see the soldiers busting open the closet, and knew that she was safer staying here and finding another way back.

Buffy ran forwards, and grabbed the Doctor's hand in hers, pulling him away from the pursuing soldiers. "Yeah, glad to see you just Narnia'ed us up an escape route, but super-soldier-gun-guys are going to be able to use the same trick! So we'd better get out of here, right away!"

"What?" said the Doctor, opening his eyes and letting himself be led away. He glanced at his surroundings. "Nah, this isn't Narnia. Probably just some array of holographic generation fields aligned with…"

Suddenly, he cried out, his face twisted in pain, and he collapsed onto the grassy field.

Buffy ran back to him, but tripped over her own feet and found herself on the ground, too. She got back up, but… that was weird. Was the world supposed to be spinning around in circles like that?

She took a few deep breaths, until the world stabilized around her, then went over to the Doctor. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Will be," the Doctor told her, through gritted teeth. He clenched his eyes shut, and breathed heavily for a few moments, then seemed to relax. He shot Buffy a grin that looked only slightly forced. "Localized time distortion, too, seems like."

"Wait, what?" asked Buffy. "You mean time distortion in the sense of hell dimension where a hundred years of torture equals one week on Earth, or time distortion in the sense of evil aliens doing dangerous time travel experiments on Earth? Or time distortion in the sense of we're now on Earth in the Middle Ages and there's no way back?"

The Doctor considered. "Not sure," he admitted. "Although… don't think the last one works. This whole thing, here, it's all still part of that building, see."

"We're still in the building?" asked Buffy.

"Yep!" said the Doctor. He pointed into the distance. "See how that bit slopes dramatically downhill? I'd say we're headed right towards the basement." He jumped to his feet and knocked on — what looked like — a piece of sky. It made a dull clang. "Metal walls," the Doctor said. "Corridor, at a guess. Leading down into the main area, at the bottom."

"But… it looks so real," said Buffy. "It's… magic, right? Or alien or demonic or something?"

The Doctor frowned. "The technology could be human," he said. "You see this sort of thing all over the place in the 70th century. So, question is, what's it doing here?"

Buffy sighed. "Trust you to wind up trapped in a closet that's actually a weird alien time thing."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her. "Trust you to hang onto your weapons no matter what." He flicked his eyes down to the picnic basket that Buffy realized she was still carrying with her, under her arm.

"This isn't a weapon," she said, waving it at him. "It's a picnic basket! Dawn's picnic basket! Which she leant us for the picnic we're supposed to be going on!"

"This is more fun than a picnic, though, isn't it?" said the Doctor, stuffing his hands into his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "New place to explore! New people to meet! And… oh, probably a very well kept secret, if those guards were anything to go by."

Buffy looked back where they'd come. There was still no indication that anyone was coming through after them.

"Okay, not to be alarmist or anything," said Buffy, "but they're not coming after us. Which usually means there's a monster on this side that they're going to let eat us."

"Quite probably!" the Doctor said. He held out a hand to her.

Buffy gave a small sigh, but took his hand in hers. "You're completely insane."

The Doctor grinned. "Course I am!"

And they ran off, together, beneath the bright and cheery sun, towards the city that, Buffy was sure, would lead them to their certain doom.

(And, with him, she kind of loved it.)


	19. The Setup, Part II

Buffy knew that the sun wasn't real. She knew the grass and the sky and all of it was fake. But the thing was, standing beside the Doctor, wandering through somewhere absolutely stunning and beautiful like this…

She glanced up at the Doctor, at his adorable freckled face, his shining eyes, those little dimples on his cheeks. The way his hair seemed to stick up all over the place, the way his entire visage seemed to be absorbed in thought, as if he were trying to weigh thousands of possibilities in his head.

Buffy took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, but she couldn't help herself from leaning in closer to him as she walked. She had an irrational desire to snatch him up in her arms and kiss him, to pull him close to her and never let him go.

And… what the hell was she thinking? She'd only just broken up with Riley, and she was definitely not the kind of person who just ran off to the next boy she found when she was alone. Riley had hurt something deep down inside of her. He'd taken her trust and betrayed every single piece of it. She wasn't going to let that happen again.

Besides, the Doctor was still kind of her enemy. In a very weird, not-completely-enemy kind of way. She had to remember that. She was only sticking to him like glue because she was watching him, making sure he didn't step out of line or kill her sister or anything.

(Oh, who was she kidding?)

Buffy forced her eyes towards the city surrounding them. A rich, jeweled city, filled with gleaming towers and streets that shone with gold. And the people! They were bright, shining, happy people, wandering down the streets with smiles on their faces and good cheer in their hearts. Everyone who passed by wished the Doctor and Buffy a very happy and very good afternoon, and hoped that they were well and that they had a wonderful day! Occasionally, the people even offered Buffy and the Doctor various different gifts — fruits, chocolates, ribbons, dresses, jeweled combs and fragrant perfumes, everything!

The Doctor pushed the gifts away, and led Buffy off. And it was only after he'd done this a number of times that Buffy noticed the seriously worried look that had affixed itself to his face.

Oh. The Doctor had found trouble.

"They're too happy?" Buffy guessed.

The Doctor considered this. "Well, possibly. Probably. But… no, that's not exactly what I was thinking."

Buffy thought a moment longer. "They're all human," she offered. "Or, I mean, I think they are. And that sign outside was written in alien, right? Which is weird."

"That," said the Doctor, "is actually a very, very good point. And one I really should have taken into more consideration." He frowned. "But at the moment, I'm a bit more worried about something else."

"What kind of something else?" Buffy asked.

The Doctor pointed at the empty building they'd been circling. "Well, if that's the school," he said, "then where are the children?"

"Probably at home doing their homework," said Buffy.

The Doctor glanced over at her. "We've walked across half this city," he said, "passing three schools, and I've seen no one under age 15."

Buffy frowned. That was actually… a really good point. And something she hadn't noticed at all. "Maybe they don't have kids," said Buffy. "They just, you know, clone themselves or something, and they all wind up as adults right away."

"Then why build the schools in the first place?" asked the Doctor.

Buffy thought about this. "A disease," she offered. "Something that made them… sterile or something. Like, 15 years ago. And no one's worked out what to do since."

The Doctor nodded over at the school. "That's far more than just 15 years of decay."

Buffy peered at the abandoned school. That was true. It looked like it was falling apart, crumbling to pieces. If there'd been no children for over 15 years, then how were there any 15 year olds at all? How were there any people here?

"And I'll tell you something else that's worrisome," said the Doctor. "We haven't been attacked, yet."

Buffy blinked. Okay, why hadn't she noticed that? That's the kind of thing that Buffy was really, really good at picking up on. But it was like… until the Doctor had pointed out that there was something wrong with this place, she'd been too caught up on him to notice anything else.

"I think there is some kind of mind control," said Buffy. "I should have noticed that."

The Doctor frowned, and sniffed the air. His eyes widened. "Ah."

"What?" asked Buffy.

The Doctor turned back to her, examining her, curiously. "You feeling all right?"

Buffy felt her heart skip a beat, as she yanked herself away from the Doctor. "It's a plague, isn't it?" she asked. "There's some crazy plague going through here, and it's gotten into me, and I'm dying and you're trying to be all supportive even though there's nothing you can—"

"There isn't a plague," said the Doctor. He went up to her, and gently tilted her face up to his, examining her carefully, as if he were studying something under a microscope. "Should be fine. No adverse reactions. I'll just… steer you clear of any potential triggers." He gave her a reassuring smile, then stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Not a plague, really. More… a way of keeping the population docile. Complacent. Euphoric."

"This place _is_ called Euphoria," Buffy pointed out.

"Yes, with good reason," said the Doctor. His brow was creased in thought, and he was getting that shimmer in his eyes that was just so adorable that Buffy's heart melted at the sight. He stared off at the empty school. "So why the warning sign specifically targeted at aliens? Why the lack of children? What is really going on, here?"

"Maybe this is some kind of experiment on humans," said Buffy. "They lure us into this place, and then…"

"Oh, hello there!" the Doctor said — not to her — his eyes lighting up, a smile dancing across his lips as he hopped the fence around the school and ran towards the abandoned building.

Buffy frowned, and peered at where the Doctor was headed. He was running towards one of the empty buildings, buzzing at the window until it creaked open. Buffy thought she could see a flash of movement from inside when the Doctor opened the window.

"No, wait!" said the Doctor, lowering himself in through the window. "Don't be afraid. I'm here to help!"

Now, three years ago, before she met the Doctor, she'd have trudged along behind in this situation, grumbling about how she was the Slayer and this was some monster she had to get rid of, and life was stupid and unfair and she hated it. Two years ago, she'd have rushed into the school because if it was a monster, she had to get rid of it before it killed innocent people. And a few months ago, before this whole Dawn thing, she'd probably have darted after the Doctor just because it was the Doctor.

But now… as much as she hated to admit it… she was really curious as to what the Doctor had found. Really, really curious.

She leapt over the fence, and flipped herself inside the classroom, landing on her feet with a dusty "thump". If she spent any more time with the Doctor, she was going to wind up being the kind of person who walked right into traps, constantly improvised in strategizing against unbeatable odds, and went out looking for trouble.

She noted the footprints in the dust, and… huh, weird. Not just the Doctor's footprints, it seemed, but another two sets of what looked like barefoot human prints alongside his. Small human footprints, actually.

She ran after them, and heard the Doctor before she saw him.

"…you can trust me. I promise. I'm not going to harm you."

Buffy turned a corner and saw the Doctor trying to placate two clearly terrified kids trembling in the corner of the school. They looked about 10 and 8, respectively — an older boy and a younger girl, with pale skin, shrunken eyes, and clothes that had been worn so often they looked like little more than rags, now. They obviously didn't believe that the Doctor was there to help them. They obviously didn't trust him.

Buffy put on her least threatening face, and slowly paced forwards, towards the two little kids. "Hey," she said, as she approached. "I'm Buffy. He's the Doctor." She glanced at them, and noticed how starved they looked. Well, she had a picnic basket, didn't she? She reached in, and took out one of the sandwiches that Donna and Dawn had packed for them. "You want something to eat?"

The kids looked at one another, as if deciding if this was worth it, or if it was some kind of trap.

The Doctor seemed impressed. Honestly impressed. _This_ was the kind of thing she never got from Riley! That feeling that she didn't have to hold back, that she could be herself without being threatening or intimidating or anything. That feeling that the most beautiful part of her was who she was inside.

_But your power is rooted in darkness_.

Buffy thrust the thought out of her mind. So the Slayer was an insane Time Lord who, if given the chance, would probably wind up destroying the world! But that didn't make her, Buffy Summers, evil. Not even if she was beginning to suspect that her Dalek-Timeline Alter-Ego hadn't exactly been the most good, virtuous person by the end.

"Come on," said Buffy, wiggling the sandwich out in front of the kids. "I won't bite! Have some food!"

The kids edged forwards, their hungry eyes fixed on the sandwich in her hands. Then the boy darted out and grabbed it from her, shuffling away the moment he had it in his hands, backing into the corner and crouching in on himself, so he could tear open the ziploc bag and wolf its contents down.

The girl looked like she was about to cry.

"No, no, it's okay!" said Buffy. She rooted around the picnic basket, again, avoiding the sword and other weapons she'd hidden inside (probably not good things to show scared little kids), and pulled out the second sandwich. "See? There's another one. All for you!"

The girl's eyes lit up, and she grabbed the sandwich from Buffy, not even retreating before she started eating.

"You are brilliant, you know that?" the Doctor muttered to her, taking the picnic basket out of her hands. He peeked inside, then raised an eyebrow at her, mouthing, "A sword?"

Buffy pasted her best innocent look on her face, as if she had no idea why there was a sword in there, because of course she hadn't brought any weapons, she'd been good, just like he'd asked.

The Doctor gave her a look that said he clearly wasn't buying any of that.

So Buffy turned back to the kids. "Feeling better, now?"

They nodded. They were still trembling, but less so.

Buffy smiled at them. "Good! So, yeah. I'm Buffy. He's the Doctor. We're here to fight off the vampires, demons and forces of…" she trailed off, as she realized the familiar mantra was probably not the best way to introduce herself to terrified kids. "I mean, we're here to help! And fight evil monsters. And slay vampires. But mostly help!"

Now the kids were starting to back away from Buffy, again. Great. So much for her being the super-duper-nice-guy.

"What are your names?" the Doctor tried.

"Annie," the little girl muttered. She glanced back at the boy. "He's Fred."

"Annie and Fred," the Doctor mused. "Good names. Very good. So, Annie and Fred, seeing as there's a great big world out there where people are giving away food and clothing and fine jewels, the question is, why are you two hiding away down here?"

Annie shuffled back towards the boy. "They're… coming for us," she whispered.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "They," he muttered. "I see."

"No one comes back," Fred told them. "They get taken, and no one comes back."

"What do they look like?" asked Buffy. "Are we talking full-scale demon, here, or some kind of shape-shifter, or…"

She trailed off, as she noticed that Annie was curling over, her entire body convulsing, her breath growing gaspy and faint.

"Annie?" asked Buffy. She rushed over. "Annie, what's wrong?"

The Doctor looked on at the scene before him, his eyes growing cold, ancient. "At a guess, I'd say she's been poisoned."

Fred's eyes widened in fear and betrayal. He tried to run away, but found himself collapsing onto the floor, panting for breath.

"Wait, no, that doesn't… that food was for us!" Buffy said. "It couldn't have possibly…" She trailed off, as she realized that, on second thought, there were kind of a lot of people who'd want to poison the Doctor and herself. A _lot_ of people. "But… Dawn and Donna packed our lunch!"

The Doctor opened the picnic basket, and pulled out an apple. He analyzed it, carefully, then sniffed it. Then gave it a very tentative lick. His eyes widened.

"Oh, that's not good."

"What?" asked Buffy. "Is this… Glory? Did she get in, somehow, and poison everything without our knowing?"

"No, I can safely put this one down to your sister and Donna," said the Doctor, shoving the picnic basket aside. "And… it's not poison, exactly. But it's something that should definitely never be given to children."

"What do you—?"

"Thing is," said the Doctor, jumping to his feet, "this is a school, and there should be a chemistry lab round here, somewhere. And if I'm very, very clever, I'll be able to work out the antidote."

The Doctor spun around, and raced off down the hall. Buffy sighed, and collected the picnic basket containing her sword, tucking it beneath her arm. Then she turned to the two children. "Come on," she urged. "We're going to fix this. We promise."

And she couldn't help but think that if it hadn't been for her screwing things up in the first place, there might not be anything she needed to fix.

* * *

A short ways away, at the top of a gleaming tower, a peasant stormed into the room, and prostrated himself on the ground.

"Your Lordship!" said the peasant. "There are strangers in the city. A man and a woman, both clothed in strange garb and donning a basket made of a substance the likes of which I've never seen. They're in the forbidden zone."

"Really?" said the Lord High Priest. "How intriguing. Are they human?"

The peasant faltered. "I… don't know, your Lordship. They looked human."

The Lord High Priest considered for a long moment. "Oh, send the troops after them!" he decided. "It's worth a look, isn't it? After all, we can't take any chances that they might be aliens. If they were, we'd have to kill them."


	20. The Setup, Part III

The Doctor was running around the chemistry lab, doing all sorts of super-sciencey things that Buffy didn't really know about. But he kept yanking stuff out of his pockets that wound up being exactly what he needed, and then mixing it in with things he'd found at the lab.

"Aha!" he said, after letting the substance boil beneath a Bunsen burner. He took a pipette out and put a drop onto his tongue. He winced. "Ooh! Hot!"

"Uh, yeah, it's boiling," said Buffy.

"Still!" said the Doctor, as he carefully separated the mixture into two little cups he had in his pockets. "Tastes about right! Should do the trick!" The Doctor ran forwards, and handed the cups to the two kids. They seemed wary, and for a moment, Buffy thought they wouldn't drink it, but they clearly figured they had nothing to lose.

So they both downed the mixture in one chug.

"Ew!" shouted Annie, thrusting away the empty cup. "That's gross!"

But the energy with which she'd thrust away the cup spoke volumes as to the substance's effectiveness.

"I don't think I like you guys," said Fred, with a pout, edging away from Buffy.

Buffy looked back at the Doctor. "That worked fast."

The Doctor grinned at her. "Very clever. Told you."

A crash of breaking glass around them, and all of a sudden, the room they were in was swarming with black-suited army commandos with guns all leveled at the four people in the center of the room.

Buffy turned to the Doctor. "Why couldn't you just get attacked by demons and vampires like normal people? Why is it always army guys with guns?"

"Special talent of mine," the Doctor said.

"Scan them!" one of the army guys shouted.

A number of soldiers raised up funny-looking bleepy devices. The Doctor raised an eyebrow at the devices.

"Now, that's definitely wrong," he said.

"Alien?" Buffy guessed.

"Human," the Doctor corrected. "From Earth, actually. Logo's from a very popular manufacturer in the distant future. But they certainly shouldn't be here."

The devices pinged, and the soldiers examined them.

"The children and the woman are human," the soldiers reported. "The man is not."

Immediately, all guns raised and pointed at the group.

"You are under arrest," said the one that Buffy assumed to be the head army guy, "for heresy, trespass, and the harboring of fugitives." He nodded at the others. "Take the children."

The children hugged one another, their eyes wide and terrified.

"Wait! Wait!" said the Doctor. "I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. I'm the Doctor, this is Elizabeth, and those are Annie and Fred. We were just strolling about, minding our own business, when suddenly, we found ourselves in… mmph!"

This last sound almost certainly being caused by the gag that the Doctor was now, inevitably, wearing.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder, and — sure enough — the Doctor had been gagged. He'd also been restrained by a myriad of army guys and wrestled away from whatever clever thing he'd been doing with the Bunsen burner.

And if Buffy had any idea what clever thing that was, maybe she could have finished up his work and done it for him. But no time for that, now, because now Buffy could see army guys rushing in to grab Annie and Fred, and she knew that this was serious sword-time.

She yanked it out of the picnic basket, and flipped herself in between Annie and Fred, and the soldiers intent on capturing them.

She used the sword to flick three guns out of the soldiers' hands, then kicked another back while elbowing a guard beside Annie in the stomach.

She then launched into full-scale Slayer fight mode, and the interesting thing was that… she wasn't being shot down. She'd expected them to open fire on her as soon as she started attacking them, but apparently, they weren't prepared to do so.

Why?

She managed to kick open enough space in the soldiers that the kids could go free. "Go!" she shouted at them.

The kids didn't have to be told twice. They turned, and ran.

A small subset of soldiers raced after the kids, but once the children had disappeared, Buffy heard the safety clicking off on all the guns surrounding her. She turned back.

"Oh," she said. "You… didn't want to hit the kids."

"We would never shoot children," said one of the soldiers, looking at her as if she were insane. "What do you take us for?"

"Besides, we don't kill humans," another soldier added, defiantly. "We aren't villains."

The other soldiers all muttered their confirmation.

"We seek to defend our city from the nonhuman monsters," said a third soldier. "Even the ones who walk amongst us, hiding beneath our form."

That was when Buffy noticed that all the guns were leveled, not at her, but at the Doctor. And it looked like they were getting ready to shoot.

"No, wait!" shouted Buffy, racing forwards to put herself in between the guns and the Doctor. "He's… he's not the bad kind of alien. He's the good kind of alien."

"All nonhumans are trespassers," a soldier informed Buffy. "They are to be shot on sight."

"But not this one!" said Buffy. "He's a good guy. Really! You keep him alive, and he'll do good stuff. Promise!"

The soldiers hesitated. "Is he… with you?"

"Yes!" Buffy said. "That's right! He's with me. And you're not going to kill me, right? Because I'm human."

The soldiers considered. Then the head soldier seemed to come to a decision. "We will take them to our Lord High Priest. The nonhuman will be judged and either executed or pardoned accordingly."

* * *

Buffy had to confess, she was a little disappointed to realize that the Lord High Priest actually really was a human, and not a demon hiding beneath a mask or something. She was kind of expecting something like that. But, nope. Slayer senses said he was human, and Buffy was sticking with that.

"The woman — Elizabeth — is a warrior of the first class," the soldiers were explaining to the Lord High Priest. "She claims the inhuman heathen is hers."

"Does she, now?" asked the Lord High Priest, looking Buffy over with curiosity shining through him.

"They were found to be harboring two fugitives, your all exultant Lordship," another soldier told the Lord High Priest. "The woman took down our finest soldiers to aid their escape."

"Oh, that hardly matters," said the Lord High Priest. "So long as they aren't harmed, we'll get them later." He hesitated, looking at the soldiers nearby. "You didn't harm them, did you?"

"No, Lord High Priest!" said the soldiers.

The Lord High Priest smiled. "Good." He descended from his throne and walked towards Buffy, appraising her. "So you're a great warrior."

"I prefer the term 'Slayer'," said Buffy. "I'm not a gun-for-hire. I don't kill humans, I don't work for tyrants, and I only fight against the forces of darkness."

"Ah! So she's a hero!" said the Lord High Priest, a delighted smile on his face. "We love heroes, here. We have much the same set of rules for our own military." He nodded over at the Doctor. "And he would be your lover, then?"

"My friend," Buffy corrected.

The Lord High Priest seemed a little downcast by the news. "Oh." He thought the matter over, then shrugged. "All right. Kill him."

The soldiers all raised their guns up at the Doctor.

"Woah, woah, woah, what the hell?" Buffy shouted. She made to lunge out at the soldiers, but the ones surrounding her held her back.

"Well, clearly, if he's not your lover, then we have no further use for him," the Lord High Priest explained. "All trespassers must be shot on sight."

"But… but I vouched for him!" Buffy insisted. "He's a good guy! A hero! Like me!"

"You are human," the Lord High Priest pointed out, "and rather an interesting one at that. He is not. If you don't claim him, he will die."

Buffy twisted around so the soldiers restraining her lost their grip, then flew at the Lord High Priest, grabbing him in a chokehold and giving him her best angry glare.

"Word of advice," said Buffy. "Don't piss off a Slayer. Okay?" She glanced at the soldiers still aiming their guns at the Doctor. "Now. Drop the guns, and undo the gag. Or your Lord High Priest gets sent to that elaborate jeweled castle in the sky."

"But I am human," said the Lord High Priest. "You can tell, can you not? You are a hero, and will not kill a fellow human being."

Buffy loosened her grip. Damn it, he was right. "I can still beat you up a lot," Buffy said.

"That does not concern me," said the Lord High Priest. "I must do the work of the gods, and nothing else." The Lord High Priest turned to the other soldiers. "Take aim."

They did as they were instructed.

Buffy felt the anger flaring up inside of her. And… okay, yeah, so she didn't want to admit that she had a dark side, that her power was rooted in something evil and deadly. But Dracula was right. At her heart, she was a killer.

"I don't care if you are human or not," said Buffy. "If you kill the Doctor, I will kill you."

And the most terrifying thing was that she thought she really might do it.

The Lord High Priest seemed to perk up at this. "Well, in that case," he said, "men, do as she says."

The soldiers all lowered their guns, and a group went to release the gag from the Doctor's mouth. The Doctor giving a babbling sort of "thank you" once they had. Buffy let the Lord High Priest go.

The Lord High Priest took a moment to regain his footing and catch his breath. The soldiers directed their guns over at Buffy the moment she released him, but he waved his hand at them, so they dropped their guns.

"No, no," he said. "That's quite all right." He did, however, motion for a number of soldiers to surround him in an armed entourage. He clearly had learned his lesson about taking Buffy seriously. He took another second to compose himself, then examined Buffy once more. "What if I said that this… friend of yours… could live, but only under eternal torment and punishment for his blasphemy and trespass?"

"Then I'd kick your ass," said Buffy.

"Yet you would not kill me?"

"Okay, what's up with this?" said Buffy. "Are you trying to get me mad? Because you're doing a really, really good job!"

"Actually," the Doctor put in, "I believe he's trying to assess the probability that you'll sleep with me."

The Lord High Priest grinned. "Yes, that's it."

Buffy stepped back. "Wait, what?"

"You clearly have a great regard for the male's life," the Lord High Priest told her. "I only wish to see how far that regard goes. Whether or not your affection goes far enough that it might turn into love."

"What?" Buffy cried.

"This is a breeding experiment," the Doctor explained to Buffy. "And, at a guess, one begun by humans time travelling in from their own future. Best way to get a pure human genome, this period in history — before you lot go out into the stars and whatnot. So! Travel back in time. Gather a bunch of humans from this time period together into this little spacial warp space in an accelerated time field. Coerce them into breeding with one another, and voila! Instantly analyze the effects of different human breeding variations. Problem is, since this is an experiment dealing with human genetics, any nonhuman element might mess up the experiment. Hence the sign. It was a warning to all those not native to this planet, telling them to stay out. Because any nonhuman life form found in this place must be eradicated."

"We must maintain purity!" the Lord High Priest said.

"Eliminating extra variables," the Doctor agreed. "That sort of thing. It's very simple, really."

"How did you work all that out?" Buffy asked.

"Those labs back in the main building we came from were genetics labs," the Doctor told her. "Very sophisticated genetics labs. The time acceleration field — although partially broken — means that they're trying to cycle through many generations at an accelerated rate. Rapid evolution. And then there's the substance in the air, of course — pheromones, yes? Someone's trying to encourage these humans to procreate."

Pheromones… hang on, Buffy remembered what that word meant. Or she should. If the Doctor would just stop being so damn sexy and let her think straight. Pheromones… that had something to do with… Xander… and a bug.

(If the Doctor put his sexy glasses on, Buffy was so totally history.)

"We must appease the gods," the Lord High Priest replied.

"Okay, okay, so the Doctor's not human and he'll screw up your experiment," said Buffy. "I get that. But why are you going to kill him for just stumbling around in here? Why not just let him put on his sexy glasses and go free?" Buffy paused, feeling heat flood her cheeks. "I mean… just… go… free."

"Well, because, technically speaking, this sort of thing is illegal," said the Doctor. "Whether it's your own species or not, tampering with a level five planet is against intergalactic law. I believe they're concerned I'll alert the Shadow Proclamation. Or travel to the 70th century and let the Earth Security Forces know that you lot are interfering with your own history."

The soldiers all pointed their guns back at the Doctor.

"See? Automatic security measure," the Doctor explained to Buffy. "I'm guessing every human being born here has been preconditioned to react this way against threats."

"Yeah, but… the Doctor isn't a threat," said Buffy. "He's just really cute-looking. And… why are you planning to let him live if we're lovers? Wouldn't that screw up your experiment, anyways?"

"A good point," said the Doctor.

"We do the work of the gods," the Lord High Priest explained. "And, besides. There is no point in purposely infuriating such a powerful warrior by executing her lover."

"Okay, but executing my friend's gonna infuriate me, too," said Buffy.

"You can have many friends," said the High Priest. "But a lover… is something special."

"What I want to know," the Doctor cut in, "is what's behind all the business with gods and the High Priest? Because you didn't just accuse me of trespassing. You accused me of heresy."

"All citizens of Euphoria must pay tribute to our gods," said the Lord High Priest. "So it was decreed, and so it shall be."

"What about if we just paid the tribute?" Buffy asked. "Would you let the Doctor go, then?"

"Naturally," the Lord High Priest agreed.

"Cool, great, we'll do that," said Buffy. "How much is it? Like, five bucks?"

"To pay tribute," said the Lord High Priest, "you and your... 'friend'… must first become citizens."

"And I'm guessing if we became citizens, that would mean we couldn't leave," said Buffy.

"Of course you could leave!" said the Lord High Priest. "Every single one of our citizens are free to leave, if they so desire. Once you and your… 'friend'… have paid the tribute, you can go. If you so wish."

Buffy frowned. "All right," she said. "Fine, then. What do we need to do to become citizens?"

"You must be joined as one," said the Lord High Priest. "United. Mated."

"Wait, wait, wait!" said Buffy. "You want us to have sex?"

"Yes."

"And if we don't have sex, we'll die?"

"The male will die, as he's not needed," said the Lord High Priest.

Buffy just stared at the crowd surrounding her. The soldiers holding their guns, proud and noble looks on their faces. The High Priest in his bright and cheerful clothing, his smile wide and exuberant and — oddly enough — not the slightest bit malicious.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" Buffy demanded.

"Sorry?" asked the Lord High Priest.

"Did you just go off and find the most weird and ridiculous internet sex clichés and shove them all together?" Buffy said. "Trapped in a closet? Forced mating? Ritual sex? Seriously?"

"It is the will of the gods," said the Lord High Priest. "You shall mate, or the male shall die!"

"What kind of society actually does that?" Buffy shouted. "What kind of a society actually says, 'hey, you guys, have sex, or we'll kill you!' I mean, if this is a genetic experiment, and you guys have all this technology from the future and stuff, wouldn't it be way simpler to just extract some DNA from me, and some DNA from him, and then shove the two together in a test tube or something?"

"Again, a good point," the Doctor said.

"I do not understand why you are so against the idea," said the Lord High Priest. "Do you not desire to be with your male more intimately? Is this not what you wish for?"

Buffy tried very, very hard to keep the blush off her face. "That's not the point!" she snapped. "Even if we were actually married, I still wouldn't sleep with him like this! It's humiliating and weird and creepy and… wrong! Super duper in-your-face wrong!"

"Nevertheless, the gods demand that all citizens must procreate," said the Lord High Priest. "We uphold the will of the gods."

"And which gods would these be, then?" the Doctor asked. "Because, see, there are rather a lot of races out there who claim to be gods, but in my experience, they usually just wind up being technologically advanced invaders with their own agenda."

A gasp spread throughout the room. The soldiers all stared at the Doctor, the word, "blasphemer" falling from their lips.

The Lord High Priest leveled a fiery glare at the Doctor. "You will die, stranger, for your blasphemies."

Buffy crossed her arms. "Okay, pissed off Slayer equals bad idea, remember? Seriously. Do yourself a favor. Keep him alive."

The Lord High Priest reconsidered. Then, waving a hand, he instructed the soldiers, "Take him to the dungeons. We cannot risk any others hearing his unholy words."

"You're making a mistake!" the Doctor shouted at him, struggling to stay back as the soldiers wrestled him out of the room. "Whoever these so-called 'gods' are, they're using you! I can help!"

Then the Doctor was shoved out of the room, and the door slammed behind him.

Buffy was having a very hard time keeping back her anger. "If you harm him in any way…"

"The nonhuman stranger will not be harmed," said the Lord High Priest. "For now. But we must respect the gods."

"What do you mean, 'for now'?" Buffy asked.

"The gods have spoken," said the Lord High Priest. "I merely follow their orders. They decree that if you, fair Elizabeth, do not sleep with the male within the next hour, he will be executed."

"Wait, the gods spoke to you right now?" Buffy asked, scanning the room. It was empty except for the Lord High Priest, herself, and a few soldiers.

"Of course."

Buffy thought about this, a moment. "Could I, like, appeal to these gods myself? Like, if I shout really loud, could they hear me?"

"You cannot address the gods!" the Lord High Priest snapped. "None but myself can face them. It is forbidden."

Buffy nodded, slowly, absorbing this information. She glanced at the guards. "Can I go? You're not going to shoot me or anything if I leave this room?"

"You are human," said the Lord High Priest. "You are free do go anywhere you choose. In fact, after your friend's fate is decided, we invite you to join us at our post-execution banquet. As an honored guest of the realm, fair Elizabeth, we promise to provide you with wine and music and the finest men for you to choose from! It shall be a truly wonderful party, and the blasphemer's severed head will make a glorious centerpiece!"

Buffy looked down at the picnic basket still tucked under her arm. "Yeah," she said, turning away. "Honestly? I'd rather just have the damn picnic."


	21. The Setup, Part IV

Buffy didn't really want to go anywhere in this stupid city except the dungeons. And she knew that if anyone had hurt the Doctor, it'd be serious face-bashing time. As far as she was concerned, the Slayer was the law for any nonhuman activity that happened on Earth. That made the Doctor her responsibility. If he stepped out of line, she was the one who had to stop him. And she wasn't going to let an illegal genetic experiment punch his face in, instead.

But they let her into the cell with no questions asked, locking the door behind her.

The Doctor beamed the moment he saw her. "Oh, brilliant! There you are! You can help me with my latest problem."

And the moment she laid eyes on him, down here, secluded and alone, she could feel that tingliness rushing through her, again, that giddiness washing across her head. She watched the Doctor bouncing around in that way he always did — although slightly restrained by the manacles — his face bright and smiling, his eyes so alive and vibrant, his every word full of warmth and sweetness.

"They're going to kill you," Buffy reminded him, setting the picnic basket down in the corner of the cell. "Unless we sleep together."

"That's just it!" said the Doctor. And the way he looked at her, when he said it — like she was so brilliant, he couldn't get enough of her, like she was the whole world and the whole universe and everything. It made Buffy want to reach out to him, drag him closer to her. But he continued on, as if he didn't even notice her wishes or desires. "See, I've been thinking — why? What could possibly be gained by sleeping together? What would be the point?"

Buffy felt her cheeks growing pink. The point? What was the point? Was he really alien enough that he couldn't see _that_? She wanted to grab him up and show him, to make him want her in the same way that she had so often wanted him, to make him understand how she felt about him. But… no, this was silly. Buffy tried to calm herself down.

"I guess… I mean, when two people who really, you know, care about each other… it kind of… you know," Buffy tried.

"Well, yes, of course," the Doctor dismissed. "But what would this lot have to gain from it? It makes no sense. You pointed out, yourself — this is an experiment examining the breeding patterns of human beings. Anything that you and I did together would simply void their experimental data. Contaminate the results."

Buffy swallowed. "Doctor…"

"So, really, there's no point in sparing my life for anything," the Doctor continued. "And certainly not for this. It's completely and utterly irrational. Even if they are frightened of your fighting skills, they'd hardly be willing to contaminate their own experiment by letting the two of us copulate. Really, they should be killing me, right now, then finding you a suitable candidate from the human population with whom you could…"

"I'm going to do it," said Buffy.

The Doctor blinked. "Sorry? Do what, exactly?"

And from the look on his face, Buffy knew that he honestly had no idea. He really was completely clueless about what Buffy had just decided to do. That sweet, innocent, beautiful face, studying her with curious eyes, his entire posture a question, for which Buffy was his answer. And there was so much trust in him, that shining, sweet trust that he always showed her, as if he were handing her his own life and asking her to keep it safe for him.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then ran forwards, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit jacket, and kissing him.

For a moment, the Doctor seemed startled. Shocked. She thought he might pull away, might ask her what she was doing, and give her a look as if she were completely and utterly insane. And that just made her pour everything she had into this kiss, because she needed to show him how she felt, she needed to make him realize what this was turning into, and all she wanted — all she ever wanted — was for him to feel this, too. To feel the emotions that poured through Buffy's veins whenever he was around, to feel the way the world lit up when he was nearby, to feel how he was her life, and she wanted him with her, forever.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity, the Doctor seemed to give in. Slowly, at first, then more and more, until Buffy could feel him kissing her back with all the passion that she was kissing him with. And it was the most amazing thing she'd ever felt, as if, in this one moment, everything made sense, the whole world was completely perfect, and this — here — this was where they should be. Together, like this, forever, never letting one another go, never fading from one another's world or sight or memory.

She didn't care, anymore, whether they were being forced or whether they were doing this out of their own free will. She just wanted this to happen — to keep happening — forever. She just didn't want to stop.

Then she ran out of air, and realized she kind of had to.

Buffy pulled away, standing in front of the Doctor, panting, trying to catch her breath, her hands still clutching his suit jacket, her eyes still fixed on his sweet, gorgeous, bright face. He was looking at her with that intensity that just made every single ounce of her gush, and… he was in manacles, too, which really, really shouldn't be so much of a turn on, but it was, and she was about that close to collapsing in a daze of pure lust.

The Doctor gave her a perky grin. "Well, now that that's out of the way, I think we should get back to the matter of figuring out what, exactly, is going on."

Buffy felt her heart drop out from under her. She just stared at him. "But… I thought… I mean, you seemed to…"

"You're forgetting something, Elizabeth," the Doctor told her, maneuvering so he could get one manacled hand into his pocket and retrieving his sonic screwdriver. "Something very important." He unlocked the manacles, and stepped aside, out of Buffy's grasp. "You're forgetting about the children."

Buffy had no words left. Had she really just been rejected? Had she really just had one of the most romantic, beautiful, wonderful kisses of her whole life, and then been slapped with a great big NO sign?

She shoved her disappointment under a mask of indifference. She'd always known that this was a possibility. Just like she'd always known that there was the possibility that he'd just spin around and run away, if she ever did this sort of thing. It wasn't important, she told herself. It didn't matter. It really, really, _really_ didn't. What did she care? It wasn't like she was crushed or upset or near tears or anything. And she was definitely not planning to go home and cry into her pillow for a few hours, like a stupid wussy little… not-Slayer.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, her voice way more wobbly than she intended.

"If everyone in this city is required to sleep together on a regular basis," said the Doctor, "then where are all the children?"

Buffy said nothing. She was still trying to get her mind past the fact that he'd just rejected her, outright, and… wait a second. The children. Sleeping together. Tribute…

Buffy's jaw dropped. "The children are the tribute?"

"My guess exactly," the Doctor replied, twirling his sonic in the air. "And if they don't care whether the offspring are human or not, I'm guessing there's a reason the children disappear and never return."

That made every single ounce of lust leave her body at once. Replaced by the cold, hard shock of complete and utter horror, along with the surge of anger and determination that always accompanied that horror.

"But… but this is supposed to be a genetic experiment or something!" said Buffy. "They can't just take the children away and…. I mean, why?"

"I believe," said the Doctor, "that this _used to be_ a genetic experiment. Human beings from the past placed in an accelerated time field, in a town where, once they procreate, their minds are altered so that they no longer desire to leave. Only, thing is, the experiment got hijacked. Whoever these 'gods' are, they took one look at this, decided it was a ticket to an all-you-could-eat baby buffet, and started taking over."

Buffy had to hand it to the Doctor, he didn't just kill the mood. He massacred it.

"These gods of theirs are eating their babies?" Buffy cried.

"Well, it's just a theory," said the Doctor. "But… yes, I'd say so."

"But what kind of creature would…" Buffy trailed off, her eyes suddenly widening, as she realized that she knew _exactly_ what kind of creature would eat human babies. "Lucronis."

The Doctor seemed intrigued. "Lucronis?"

"I mean, not Lucronis itself, but something Lucronis-ish," Buffy amended. "Three years ago, there was this… band candy. It made all the adults act like teenagers, which made Sunnydale completely chaotic, and let these vampire guys steal all the babies and offer them as tribute to this evil hell monster called Lucronis."

"And when you killed Lucronis off," the Doctor concluded, "any others of its kind would have run away and buried themselves deep underground, whereupon they discovered… this little city." The Doctor beamed, and then swept her into a great big hug. "Oh, you're brilliant, Elizabeth! Truly brilliant!"

And Buffy thought the admiration, pride, and — okay, not love, but serious liking — that poured through his every word almost made up for the fact that he'd been completely uninterested in taking that kiss any further. He may not love her the way that she loved him, but he thought that she was one of the bravest, most wonderful, brilliant, and amazing people he'd ever met, and…

He _had_ kissed her back.

(Not like that'd stop her from crying — no, wait, not crying, just being totally stoic and normal — into her pillow when she got back home.)

Maybe this was as far as they'd ever take things. Maybe this was all they could ever be — just two people who cared for one another so profoundly that they would run through one another's pasts just to be together for a few seconds longer. Two people who clung to one another to try to find some meaning in their own lives. Two people who could cause one another so much pain, and heartache, and turmoil, simply because they both wanted, so very much, to believe in one another.

Perhaps even — two people blundering their way through life without really knowing what they were doing.

(Too scared to take things further, too scared to take that final risk when so much was at stake, so desperate to trust one another but too scared to ever tell each other the truth.)

"Well," said the Doctor, unlocking the cell with his sonic screwdriver, "as in all cases, it seems there's only one thing to be done when confronted with the option to either copulate or die."

"Kill evil monsters?" Buffy guessed.

"And overthrow society!" the Doctor added. "Don't forget the important bit."

As the Doctor darted out of the cell, Buffy lingered a moment, confused. All cases? Had he been in this particular situation before?

But the Doctor was darting off to meet Lucronis' friends and relatives, and Buffy crouched down to pick up the picnic basket and tuck it back beneath her arm, as she realized that she needed to let this matter drop.


	22. The Setup, Part V

"Oh, look at you!" cried the Doctor, excitement and wonder in his voice, as he approached the five slithering Lucronis look-a-likes. "So you're these so-called gods, then?"

They hissed, their snakelike bodies weaving around the room, their tails encircling the perimeter and trapping Buffy and the Doctor inside, as they tilted their heads to get a better look at the two people who'd just entered their inner sanctum.

"We are divine," one of them hissed. "We demand tribute."

Buffy almost jumped. "They can talk?"

"Course they can," said the Doctor, hands in his pockets. "Most of your demons can talk, you know. You simply can't understand them without the TARDIS around." He took a step forwards, to address the giant copper-tinted snakelike being in front of him. "Hello! I'm the Doctor, and this is Elizabeth. Who'd you be then?"

"We are the Argrodentides," hissed the snake. "And we are gods. Bow before us, tiny mortals, or we shall consume you."

"Nice to meet you," the Doctor continued. "Elizabeth and I just stumbled onto your little town here, and we've been noticing that you've been eating all the children. So we'd like to ask you to stop and leave, please."

The hissing laughter of the five creatures echoed through the room.

"Don't tell me you thought that was going to work," Buffy muttered to him.

"It's always good to be polite!" the Doctor replied.

"We have always hungered for the souls of children," said one of the Argrodentides. "In the world outside, we starved. One of our number was murdered. We must feed. We must survive."

Buffy reached into the picnic basket to get out her sword, but the Doctor put a hand on her arm, and one glance up into his eyes cautioned her — not now.

"The woman believes herself a warrior!" said another Argrodentide, with a hint of laughter. "Little child, taught to defend the world, yet unable to protect those she loves most."

Buffy felt a pang of sorrow flood her as she thought of her mother in the hospital, of Dawn being interrogated by Glory, of Angel dying from that poisoned arrow, of the Doctor limp and lifeless in Adam's arms as he was carried away. She pushed the thoughts out of her head.

"Mild telepathic abilities, then?" the Doctor asked.

"And you, alien wanderer!" said a third Argrodentide, swooping its head down towards the Doctor. It analyzed the Time Lord, carefully, its eyes peering with a penetrating stare. "What fear you have! What great terror you conceal!"

The Doctor said nothing.

Buffy glanced over at him. He didn't look scared. And why would he be? He'd faced worse stuff than this before, and come out all right. There was nothing to be afraid of.

"You remember what you did the last time you and her were given this choice," the Argrodentide hissed at the Doctor. "You don't know if you'll be able to stop yourself from doing it again."

The Doctor fixed them with a pointed glare. "If you can see that," he told them, in a dark voice, "then you know why it would be a very, very good idea for you to leave. Right now."

And the weirdest thing was that this statement seemed to make them hesitate. They all looked at one another, then bowed their heads together, whispering in sibilant slithers and hisses too quiet to make out.

"You know, for big evil snakes that threatened to eat us, there's not a whole lot of eating going on," Buffy pointed out.

"Nah, they won't eat us!" the Doctor dismissed. "At a guess, I'd say the hormones produced by the human body after puberty are toxic to them. That's why they need children."

"But… I've seen them eat…" she trailed off. Actually, the only adult Lucronis had eaten was a vampire. Which had probably turned to dust the moment it hit the digestive tract. So… the Doctor was probably right, then. Buffy shook her head. "But if they just eat babies, then why are there people still living here? Eventually, if you keep killing all the kids, the whole population is going to die out, and these snake guys will have no food."

"Well, they must keep a few children alive," the Doctor said. "Just to keep population levels up. But considering the number of human pheromones pumped into the air, round here, I'm guessing they're still able to get a pretty substantial breakfast."

"Huh?" asked Buffy.

"Pheromones," the Doctor explained. "A chemical agent used to produce a certain biological reaction. In this case, sex."

Oh, God, now Buffy remembered what pheromones were, and what had very nearly happened to Xander the last time the term had come up. "You mean…" said Buffy, "breathing the air around here makes me want to… you know?"

"Well, in a nutshell, yes," the Doctor said.

Buffy looked at the creatures surrounding them. "I've gotta say, the giant baby-eating snakes kind of spoil the mood for me."

"Ah, yes, there is that," the Doctor admitted.

The giant baby-eating snakes in question turned back to the Doctor and Buffy. "We have thought the matter over," they said. "And we have decided."

"And?" asked the Doctor.

One of the Argrodentides snapped its tail around, and wound it around the Doctor's skinny frame, dragging him up about ten feet off the ground. "We are going to kill you."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "What? You sure?"

"Yes," hissed the Argrodentides.

"Then I'm very, very sorry," the Doctor told them. "Because you've made a big mistake." He glanced down at Buffy.

"We do not fear your warrior!" the Argrodentides told the Doctor. "A small and insignificant little human girl? We are the Argrodentides! We are might, and strength, and…"

"Really, really stupid," said Buffy, taking a torch off the wall. "Because, if you do have mind-reading abilities, then why don't you look at what I'm thinking, now?"

She concentrated on the memory of herself in the sewer, going up against Lucronis. The memory of the smell of charred scales and sewer water. The rumble and roar as the creature burned to death.

The Argrodentides all began to shriek, with just the same high pitched anger and desperation as Lucronis had when Buffy had killed it.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Exactly."

And that was when she set the building on fire.

* * *

It was sort of beautiful — the burning building ejecting shimmeringly hot air out against the holo-generators, making the sky twinkle and dance above their heads. But far, far more beautiful was the sight that emerged from the building's door — a petite, blond woman ushering a group of frightened young kids out of the building that had held them captive their whole lives, two babies in her arms, picnic basket beneath her elbow, a look of determination on her face.

These were the moments that made life brilliant. Young children being given a chance to live in freedom and happiness. The crumbling of an unjust society to make way for a new one, a better one. And… that smile on her lips, as she looked up at him, and their eyes met.

She gave the children to the care of the nearby gawking villagers, then ran over to the Doctor, swooping him into a hug that nearly knocked him to the ground. He stumbled, and managed to catch his footing.

It was sad that the Argrodentides hadn't chosen to leave. The Doctor always had a part of him that mourned when someone made a wrong decision. But… well, perhaps it was the human pheromones finally getting to him, but, wrapped up in this hug, feeling the love and excitement radiate off of this young human girl that he admired so very much, feeling her spirit shine more brightly than a burst of hydrogen fusion reactions — the Doctor wasn't nearly as bothered as he should be. In fact, he felt rather happy.

Right. Yes. He really needed to get out of there. Before the pheromones made him do something he regretted.

"Better get going," he told Buffy, trying but failing to pry her off of him. She really was ridiculously strong.

Buffy didn't answer, just squeezed him tighter.

"Elizabeth…"

But anything he was about to say was cut off by the contact of her lips on his, the adrenaline and pheromones and excitement clearly blending together in Buffy's mind to produce this effect. And… oh, dear, this was rather nice, wasn't it? Perhaps they didn't have to leave at all. Perhaps…

The Doctor gave himself a mental jolt, and managed to wiggle out of Buffy's grasp. Ah. Yes. That was right. Becoming intimate made them wish to stay. If they actually did continue on like this, they'd be trapped here forever.

"Elizabeth," said the Doctor. "We have to go—"

This time, Buffy really did tackle the Doctor to the ground. She had eyes filled with lust and love and so much caring — a sweet, beautiful, deep caring that went all the way to the bottom of her soul. The moment they collided with the grass beneath them, she backed off, worried she'd hurt him or pushed him too far, clear terror on her face. She took a few panicked breaths, then, finally, ventured to cup his face with a gentle, soft hand.

He took her hand away, and held it in his own. "It's a trick, Elizabeth. The more intimate we get with one another, the less we want to leave."

"Then let's stay," said Buffy. She gazed at him with those intense blue eyes of hers, examining every square inch of his face as if drinking him in.

"We can't," said the Doctor.

Buffy gave a small laugh, and tucked her head beneath his chin, lying on top of him in a way that he really — really — should not be at all enjoying. Even remotely.

"I'll protect you," she said. "I promise." She encircled his upper body with her arms, pulling him closer to her. "I won't let this town go all angry mob on you just because you're an alien."

"What about your sister?" the Doctor reminded her.

Buffy made a face. "Dawn's an annoying twerp who can take care of herself!"

"She's also an incredibly dangerous individual carrying an energy that could rip apart the multiverse."

"I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!" Buffy cried. She cuddled into him, a little bit closer, nestling her cheek against his chest. "I just want to stay here forever. With you."

Ah. Now that was a very, very bad sign. Because the Doctor knew that, if she were in her right mind, she'd never say something like that.

The Doctor jerked the picnic basket — now a bit more crumpled, scorched, and (in areas) frayed — out from where it was still looped around Buffy's arm. "Right, then." And he started to take the basket apart.

Buffy's eyes went wide, and with lightning fast speed, she snatched the basket away from him. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Well, you said—"

"This is Dawn's picnic basket!" Buffy shouted at him, waving the basket in the air. "You're not taking apart Dawn's picnic basket! You can't…" She trailed off, as she blinked, and some clarity seemed to come back into her eyes.

She got off the Doctor, and slumped down into the grass, beside him, the basket in her hands.

"She got it when she was nine," Buffy said, in a voice barely above a whisper. "She always wanted one. She was so excited when Mom gave it to her that she wouldn't stop running around the whole day. She kept putting things in, and then taking them out, and then putting them back in again." Buffy gave a soft smile. "She dragged me off to a picnic the next day. And right in the middle, it started pouring rain. All the grass was wet, and the sandwiches were soggy, and the passing cars kept spraying muddy water all over us, but… Dawn wouldn't let us pack up and leave. This was her picnic, and we were going to enjoy it, no matter what." Her face crinkled into sorrow. "And none of that ever really happened. None of it's real."

The Doctor glanced around at the sky overhead, the people running around, the firemen putting out the burning building. "Neither is this place, really."

Buffy clutched the picnic basket. "This," she said. "This basket. This is real." She stared at the basket with all the love and worry for her sister shining through her eyes. "And I'm not going to let anything happen to it."

The Doctor stood up, and offered Buffy a hand. Buffy took it, got to her feet, and together, the two of them made their way back to the outside world.

* * *

It was dark outside. A loose circuit in the time field generators, the Doctor suspected. But Buffy still put the picnic basket into Giles' convertible, and they began to drive home. She drifted off into a light sleep almost the moment they began to drive.

The Doctor stopped the car, a little ways away, just to watch her. See her so peaceful, so quiet, the moonlight her blanket and the stars her pillow. It was a peaceful, still side of her that the Doctor so rarely saw. It made him want to shake her awake and drag her off on some other adventure, show her something new and interesting and brilliant that she'd never seen before.

As if she'd picked up on his thoughts, Buffy rolled in her seat, and reached out for him. Her hand catching his arm and hugging it to her, although her eyes were still closed.

"Never leave me," she mumbled.

The Doctor thought of all his other companions. All the others who he'd cared for, so very much, who'd left him in the end. Whom he had to leave, because he'd ruined their lives.

He thought about Dawn.

And said nothing.

* * *

The moment that Dawn and Donna noticed that Buffy and the Doctor had returned, they peered through the window.

"Do you think it worked?" Dawn asked.

Donna checked her watch. "Half past ten? Either they're very quick about it, or it hasn't worked."

Dawn frowned, as she noticed the sleeping Buffy in the car. The Doctor leaned over and gently shook Buffy awake. Buffy stretched a little, then her entire face seemed to light up as she spotted the Doctor, and she leaned forwards as if she wanted to kiss him.

But didn't.

"Well, it's got to happen some time!" Dawn complained. "I mean, look at them! They're all over each other!"

"If they withstood that super-alien-aphrodisiac we gave them, it's never going to happen," Donna told her. "Trust me. I took some of that stuff, and I wound up hooking up with some alien that looked like a big blue blob of jelly."

Dawn pouted. "At least we tried."

The Doctor and Buffy then came through the door, Dawn and Donna jumping to their feet and trying to look as innocent as possible. The Doctor arched an eyebrow at them, which told them that, yes, he had worked out that there was an aphrodisiac in their food and no, he was not terribly happy about it.

"You guys have fun by yourselves?" Buffy asked.

"I dunno," said Dawn. "It's been pretty lame around here. What about you? Do any serious picnicking activities?"

"Well, we killed some baby-eating monsters," said Buffy. "Ended a corrupt religion, toppled an oppressive government. So… it was kind of a Buffy-day."

"And the whole picnic thing…?" Dawn asked.

"Kind of didn't happen," Buffy told her. "But… we saved your picnic basket!" She held up the basket, which was now misshapen, and broken in a few places, but still certainly there. "And I promise, promise, promise I'll give it back as soon as I get the…" she glanced over at the Doctor, "weapons I definitely didn't conceal inside out of there."

"Well, Donna and I had better be going," said the Doctor. "Drop by the 70th century, alert the authorities about illegal tampering in Earth's past, see if we can't shut that place down." He turned. "Donna?"

And the way that the Doctor and Buffy left one another told both Donna and Dawn that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, nothing had happened between them.

* * *

A few hours later, after the Doctor and Donna had left, Buffy was putting away the weapons she'd concealed inside the picnic basket, when she noticed something she'd overlooked. Something she knew she definitely hadn't put in there.

A pair of handcuffs.

She looked at the handcuffs, and remembered what the Doctor had told her about the substance the food had been dosed with, and suddenly put two and two together. She spun around.

"Dawn!"


	23. Checkpoint

The TARDIS materialized in the Summers' front yard, but before the Doctor could even open the door, he discovered Buffy standing in front of it, trying to push it closed.

"Get out of here," she hissed. "Right now!"

"But—"

"Look, for once in your lives, just do what I say, okay?" Buffy snapped. "Dematerialize, and hop forwards three days. Now!"

The Doctor sighed, shut the door, and did as he was told. The echoing trumpet of the TARDIS rang through the air, as the police box disappeared with a gust of wind.

"Miss Summers?"

Buffy turned around, to find Quentin Travers exiting her house, accompanied by Lauren Ackerly and Peter Schiller. Travers' eyes scanned the front yard with suspicion.

"That's me!" said Buffy. "Just being all super-impressive, not-at-all suspicious Buffy, all by myself, with no one else around!"

Travers inspected the yard, once more. "You do understand, of course, that if the Watchers Council suspects that you've been speaking to one of our sworn enemies, there will be no chance that we will reveal any of our secrets regarding the true nature of the being you refer to as Glory?"

"Who was speaking to sworn enemies?" asked Buffy. "I was just standing out here, minding my own business! I'd never even think to become best friends with someone the Watchers Council is super-duper scared of."

Travers gave the yard one more examination, then decided to give up the endeavor, and resume their inspection.


	24. Defender of the Earth

Dawn had been upset at Buffy. The Watchers Council had just left, and Buffy was acting all weird and annoying and overprotective and stuff, and it was just too much! Why couldn't Buffy just tell her what was going on? There was obviously something important about some key or something, and then the Watchers Council had revealed some kind of super-bad information to Buffy, and Dawn didn't know any of it! She wasn't a baby anymore! Why was Buffy being so annoying about this?

So Dawn stormed off.

She had to face it. Buffy would never tell her anything. To Buffy, Dawn was just the stupid little sister who couldn't take care of herself. But Dawn could _so_ take care of herself! She didn't need a big sister who was a Slayer lurking around to scare the monsters off.

"Well," came a woman's voice, "look who it is. The little sister."

Dawn felt a hand squeeze around her throat, as she came face-to-face with the blond, angry woman who had appeared in their living room, the other day. The one whom Buffy had called Glory. The one Buffy had warned her to stay away from.

"You know," said Glory, "your sister still won't give me my Key. And that really, really bugs me. You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you, Dawny?"

"No," said Dawn.

"And that makes me mad," said Glory. "Really, really mad. Because it's _my_ Key, and she has no right hogging it for herself, does she?"

Dawn felt Glory's grip tighten around her throat.

"So I thought, I know," said Glory, "I'll send her a message. Make sure she knows I'm serious. I'll kill you, and maybe then, she'll figure out that it's rude to keep things that don't belong to her!"

Dawn felt the hand squeeze her throat tighter, and she gasped for air.

"Either drop the girl, or prepare to be blasted into 2009," came a commanding, English-sounding voice from behind her.

Glory's grip loosened, slightly, around Dawn's neck. Dawn glanced back, and could vaguely make out a petite blond woman wearing a blue leather jacket, black slacks, and a purple shirt, pointing an extremely large and lethal-looking gun directly at Glory. A girl… Dawn thought she remembered.

"What, you think I'm supposed to be impressed?" asked Glory. "Guns don't work on me, darling."

"This gun has enough energy to completely destroy a Dalek," said the girl. "Do you want to risk it?" She narrowed her eyes at Glory. "Now. Let her go."

"You dare to go up against me?" Glory said. "You've got guts, hun, I'll give you that. Not very bright, but definitely guts. Who are you?"

"I am the Bad Wolf," said the girl, stepping forwards. "The Defender of the Earth."

"Never heard of you," said Glory. "And, word of advice? Get a better job. Cuz the Earth isn't going to be around for very much longer."

The girl stepped forwards, again, so that the gun was directly in Glory's face, and the girl, herself, was standing right next to Dawn.

"In that case," said the girl, tucking something into Dawn's pocket, "I'm the Bad Wolf. And I'm the one who packed a spare dimension cannon."

And in a flash, Dawn found herself inside the Magic Box, the Bad Wolf girl by her side, Glory nowhere in sight, surrounded by Scoobies.

The Bad Wolf girl glanced over at Buffy. "You missing a sister?" she asked.

Buffy ran forwards, and swept Dawn into a tight hug. And Dawn, despite all her annoyance and irritation, couldn't help but hug Buffy back. Because Buffy was her sister, and no matter what, they'd always have that bond between them.

"That's a really, really big gun," said Xander.

Dawn looked around, and realized that every single person in the room — except for herself, Buffy, and the Bad Wolf girl — had their hands in the air, staring at the enormous gun the girl was holding. All backing away, tentatively, as if trying to find some sort of escape from an impending massacre.

The Bad Wolf girl, only just realizing that she still had the gun aimed directly in front of her at the spot now occupied by the Scoobies, lowered the gun.

"It's for Daleks," she explained.

The Scoobies didn't lower their hands.

Giles gave a nervous smile. "Yes, terribly sorry for the mix-up. And you would be..?"

"She says she's the Bad Wolf," Dawn piped in.

Giles' smile looked incredibly strained, now. He began edging towards Willow, who was sitting at the table, magic book opened directly in front of her. "I see."

"Who is she?" Willow whispered.

"Check the demonic index guide for a 'Bad Wolf'," Giles whispered back.

"Will, Giles, it's okay," Buffy cut in, before Willow had a chance to do anything. "She's not a demon or anything. She's just... her name's Rose. She's human. And... a friend." Buffy looked back at Rose. "I think."

Rose gave them all a kind smile, and a small wave. "Hello."

"Hate to point out the obvious, Buff," said Xander, "but if she's human, why did she just appear out of thin air?"

"And why do you seem to know her when you've never mentioned her to us before?" Willow asked.

"I... kind of... forget," Buffy confessed. "When she's not around. It's really... really confusing."

"Forget?" Giles said. He examined Rose, warily. "You mean that she's been putting you through some sort of... mind alteration?"

"Like the kind that you claimed you were going through on that tape you found a few weeks ago?" Xander put in.

"No, I mean..." Buffy started.

Rose lay her gun on the ground, and stepped away from it. "I'm not gonna hurt you," said Rose. "Promise. It's just… _I'm_ not the reason you're having trouble remembering what's happening in your lives. Something's gone wrong. Something big. And I'm trying to put it right. Before the moment when it's all too late."

"And you can't kill Rose," said Dawn, "because she's human. And she saved my life! So there!"

"Right," said Xander, still eyeing Rose suspiciously. "So... you just appear out of thin air, say cryptic-sounding things, carry scary-looking weapons, call yourself the Bad Wolf..."

"And save my little sister," Buffy added, pointedly.

"...and then leave," Xander continued, "at which point no one can remember you. Call me a skeptic, but that sounds like a demon."

"Oh, no," put in Anya. "Demons don't usually carry around Dalek-destroying guns. Unless they're Pultimanso Demons, but those are pretty reptilian."

"She's not... she's just looking for someone," said Buffy.

"A powerful entity, on a deadline, looking for someone?" Giles muttered.

"Giles, not like that," said Buffy. "She's looking for her friend. Some... doctor, or something."

Rose looked at Buffy, a very, very sad expression on her face. "You knew him," she said.

Buffy said nothing, her eyes flooding with worry.

Rose nodded at Dawn. "That string. Round your neck. D'you know what it is?"

Dawn blinked, then fished out the piece of string she was wearing around her neck like a necklace, the one she hadn't realized she was wearing. She stared at it. It was a small, Yale key on a loop of string, a key that seemed to tingle when she touched it.

"Buffy... gave this to me," she said — and that was true, she was pretty sure. She just couldn't remember when it had happened.

Rose turned to Buffy. "And where'd you get it?"

Buffy screwed up her face in concentration, as if trying to drag the thought out of the bottom of her mind. But it was like looking through her backpack for a homework assignment she knew she hadn't done. There was nothing there to find.

"I... don't know," she confessed, at last.

"It's the Doctor's," Rose told her. "He must have given it to you. And you gave it to your sister. It's a temporal echo, a trace of the old timeline that's stayed around, even though you don't remember."

"I don't—" Buffy started.

"You have a bright red notebook," Rose continued. "You don't know why it's blank."

Buffy said nothing.

"He's been here," said Rose. "You knew him." She looked around at the rest of them. "All of you. And now you don't. You're heading for something horrible, something that will destroy the multiverse. We're headed to battle, both of us. And unless I fix where time's gone wrong, both you and I are gonna lose."

The Scoobies all looked at one another, uneasily.

"Yeah, well, Buffy can beat anything!" Dawn insisted.

Buffy hesitated. The unease showing on her face. The worry trickling through every limb of her body.

Rose blinked, confusion spreading through her, as she took the once-yellow disk out of Dawn's pocket. Except... it wasn't yellow anymore. It was completely charred and black, smoking faintly, as if it had been completely fried.

"That's not supposed to happen," Rose muttered. She examined Dawn, as if trying to make sense of her, trying to put together a puzzle that she couldn't solve. Then she sighed, and tucked the burnt disc into her pocket. "Design flaw. I'll talk to Torchwood about it."

"Torchwood?" Giles asked. "What on Earth is that?"

Rose gave him a small smile, then checked her watch. Her smile faded. "I'd better get going," she said. "If there's any hope for the universe, I've gotta fix time and make sure that everything gets put back where it should be." She picked up her gun from the floor, swinging the strap across her shoulder. "Sorry I couldn't be more help."

She turned, and began to walk out the door.

Buffy took a few steps forwards. "No, wait!" she called.

Rose froze, her hand on the doorknob, her eyes flicking back to Buffy. Buffy hesitated. She kept feeling like there was something she was supposed to say to this Rose, something incredibly important, but she had no idea what.

"Your… friend," said Buffy. "Did you find him?"

Rose said nothing for a long moment. A very, very long moment. One that seemed to draw out seconds into hours, and amplify the faint sound of the grains of sand as they poured through the eternal hourglass of time that kept the universe ticking forwards.

"Yes," Rose admitted, at last.

Yet the way she said it was so sad, so desperate, that Buffy knew that wasn't all there was to the situation.

"And…?" Buffy asked.

Rose turned her head around to look at Buffy, and their eyes met.

"He's dead," said Rose.

* * *

That night, Buffy cried herself to sleep.

And didn't know why.


	25. Shadows, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scoobies have one question for the Doctor. "You couldn't have just _told_ us what Glory was?"

The Doctor knew he was in for it the moment he entered the Magic Box. Every single one of the Scoobies were there, giving him the kind of annoyed look he usually got from Donna.

"What?" the Doctor asked.

"You couldn't have just told us?" Buffy demanded. "You knew from the very beginning what Glory was, and you couldn't have at least dropped us a hint?"

"I did tell you!" the Doctor insisted. "Glory is a twelfth dimensional being, whose…"

"In twenty syllable words!" Buffy shouted. "What about telling us in totally plain, normal, ordinary one-syllable words?"

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. He glanced over at Donna, hoping for some help, but Donna seemed to be just as annoyed.

"Don't look at me, sunshine," she said. "I'm on their side."

The Doctor turned back to the Scoobies. "See, thing is, there isn't really any way to describe her in one-syllable words."

The Scoobies all looked at one another. Then back at the Doctor. Then they all said, in unison:

"She's a god."

"One syllable words," Buffy pointed out. "See?"

Donna's jaw dropped open.

The Doctor just frowned. "Sorry, we are talking about… Glory, here, yes?"

"Yeah," said Xander. "You know. Evil hell goddess."

The Doctor gave a small laugh. "She's not a god."

"So you're saying that, if she broke free from her mortal prison, she _wouldn't_ be an all-powerful, all-knowing entity, able to strike down those around her with just a thought, able to hurl thunderbolts and manipulate the universe on a whim, and completely invulnerable to all harm?" Buffy asked.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Actually… she would be that."

Donna smacked him across the top of the head. "That's a god, dumbo!" she shouted.

"Glory is not a god!" the Doctor protested. "She may want to believe she is, but really, really, she's not! At all! She's a twelfth dimensional being. That's it!"

"It's not like we were going to worship her if you told us she was a god," said Buffy. "We just would have appreciated a heads-up about the whole can't-actually-be-killed thing."

"Who? Glory?" the Doctor asked. "Nah. Course she can be killed! Twelfth dimensional being? Did it all the time back during the War."

"Wait, you what?" Willow asked.

"We killed them. Well, the ones who joined the Daleks, at any rate." The Doctor shrugged. "War across all of time and space? Horrors more terrifying than anything you could possibly imagine? Every twelfth dimensional being worth its salt wanted in on it. We figured out a way to get rid of them." He glanced off into the distance, a sad, lost expression spreading across his face. "There was a reason that even the White and Black Guardians fled the War in terror."

Everyone looked at everyone else. A spark of hope appearing in all their eyes.

"How'd you do it?" asked Xander.

"Yeah, how can we get rid of Glory?" Willow said.

The Doctor shuffled, awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, actually…"

The Scoobies all looked at one another, then settled back into their angry faces. They started muttering things like, "Just like the Mayor all over again", and "Never willing to help us out when we need it most."

Buffy didn't join them. She just gave the Doctor a steady look.

"What's the catch?" Buffy asked.

"Well, see, there is a way to kill a twelfth dimensional being," the Doctor explained. "It's just not… something… you lot would really want to do."

"What do you mean?" asked Willow.

"There are three obvious ways I can see to getting rid of your problem," the Doctor explained. "One would be to stabilize Ben to this reality, fixing the imperfect prison system and allowing everyone to get on with their lives with no further bloodshed. But, seeing as how—"

"Oh, great!" said Xander. "He's changing the topic!"

"—you lot never seem to understand a word I say on that front, and my previous three attempts to intervene directly have resulted in the near-collapse of the universe, I think that way won't work too terribly well," the Doctor continued. "The second way would be to do what we did during the War. Which, all in all, isn't something I'm too terribly keen to do."

"And that method would entail… what, exactly?" Giles asked.

"Detonating the nearest star," the Doctor explained, " and most of the surrounding stars, then drawing them together into a gigantic gravitational field comprised of twelve supernovas and thirteen black holes, compressed using a super-concentrated plasma core with transdimensional anchors to support it."

"Um…" said Xander.

"Hang on," said Willow, "did you just say that, to get rid of Glory, you'd need to blow up the sun?"

"Your sun, and the nearest 24 stars surrounding it," the Doctor agreed.

The Scoobies all looked at one another.

"Okay, all in favor of _not_ doing that?" Xander asked.

"Couldn't it be a different sun?" Buffy proposed. "Like, you take her somewhere else in your TARDIS?"

"Somehow, I think giving Glory full access to a super-duper time machine might be a very, very big mistake," said the Doctor.

"I'm kind of impressed that you Time Lord guys were able to find that many groups of 25 stars without life on the surrounding planets during the War," Willow said. "I mean, I thought the universe was filled with life!"

The Doctor didn't answer this. There was no point in revealing to these humans how desperate they'd really been during the War. What horrors and atrocities even his own side had committed.

"And the third way to stop Glory?" Buffy asked.

The Doctor met her eyes with his. "You know that one already."

Buffy said nothing.

The Doctor sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "There is… a fourth way," he admitted.

"What fourth way?" Buffy asked.

"A bluff, really," the Doctor said. "Glory only wants to go home to take revenge. Her two co-rulers pushed her out, and locked her up here. They didn't fight in the War, of course, but, well, enough others of their kind had that I thought… if I could find a way to convince her that her two co-rulers were dead, and that I'd been the one who killed them…"

"She'd take revenge on you, instead," Buffy realized. She just stared at him. "Glory would kill you."

"I'm not that easy to kill," the Doctor reminded her.

"Yeah, but you're not immortal, either!" said Buffy. "And you're not completely invulnerable to any harm! Glory is!"

"Glory's on a deadline," the Doctor said. "And she exists in enough dimensions that she can remember me, even when you lot can't. The best way to get her to miss her deadline is to give her someone else to chase."

Buffy and the Doctor said nothing, for several long seconds, just looking at one another. As if trying to silently confer with one another, trying to reach out to one another in a way beyond the comprehension of any in the room.

"Actually, it's not a terribly bad plan," Giles muttered. He rushed over and started searching through books. "If we could just… isolate the source of Glory's invulnerability… well, we might not be able to kill her. But we could harm her. Slow her down enough that she'd be unable to kill the Doctor before she misses her deadline."

"And afterwards?" Willow asked.

"I thought afterwards Donna and the Doctor were just going to run away in their blue box thing," said Tara.

"Glory's still going to be mega-pissed, though," said Willow. "If we screw up her plans. She's not just going to let this go. She's going to get her revenge on all of us, and then she's going to get her revenge on you, too, Doctor."

"And if she can't harm you directly," said Buffy, "she'll find some other way to make you suffer." She nodded over at Donna.

Donna glanced around at the others. "What are you all looking at me for?"

They all looked away.

"It's likely that, seeing as the Doctor is a rather… formidable enemy," Giles explained, "Glory might come after you, instead."

"Me?" Donna cried. She stared at them. "But… but… but I'm not important! I'm just a temp! I don't matter!"

"And Giles was a jobless slacker for a year," said Xander. "But that's not about to stop Glory from going all evil Hell Goddess on him."

"For the last time, she is _not_ a goddess!" the Doctor insisted. "How many times do I have to say this?"

"Then why can't I touch her?" Buffy asked him. "I've gone up against her over and over again, and every time I hit her, it's like she doesn't feel anything."

The Doctor glanced around the Magic Box. Then, in a flash, he picked up a sword from a display case, and hurled it at the wall.

It thudded into the wood.

"Well, that's odd," said the Doctor, in mock surprise. "The sword went right through my left heart, yet I appear to be still alive and completely unharmed."

The Scoobies all looked at one another, in confusion.

"Uh, Doctor," said Buffy, "that sword went nowhere near you."

"No, see?" the Doctor said, pointing at the wall, where the sword was imbedded. "Sword went right through my left heart. Perfect hit. Yet still…" He waved his hand. Then did a jumping jack.

Along the wall where the sword was imbedded, his shadow did the same.

"You mean the sword went through your shadow?" Buffy asked. She noted that it did look like the Doctor had thrown the sword exactly where his shadow's left heart would have been.

"That's not my shadow!" insisted the Doctor. "It's me! It acts like me. Does whatever I do. It still looks a bit like me — well, as much as a shadow can, at any rate. It's me — a two-dimensional version of me. But even with the sword in my chest, I can still…" The Doctor hopped to the side, and his shadow did the same. "…do this."

"Oh!" said Willow. "Oh! I think I get it! The shadow's like your imprint in two dimensions, right? The trace part of you that exists in a two-dimensional world. But… the real you doesn't exist in two dimensions. You exist in three."

"Four," Buffy corrected.

"Well, four and a half, if you want to get technical about it," the Doctor admitted.

"But… Glory exists in way more dimensions than that!" said Willow. "All we can see of Glory is the part of her that exists in our dimensions, but that's not where she actually exists. When we attack Glory, it's like we're attacking her shadow. We can't harm her any more than attacking the Doctor's shadow could actually hurt the Doctor."

The Doctor beamed at Willow.

"So, in conclusion," said Giles, "we're not up against a goddess. We're up against someone who so much resembles a goddess that she might as well be referred to as a goddess."

"...well, if you want to look at it that way," the Doctor said.

"Uh-huh," said Xander. "I'm sticking to Hell Goddess."

"What about the plan?" asked Tara. "You know, the one we were talking about before?"

"You mean the one where we try to convince Glory to kill the Doctor?" asked Buffy. "And Donna? And all the rest of us? I'm thinking that plan isn't so ideal."

"She'd only go after the rest of you," the Doctor said, very quietly, "if she didn't finish me off, first. If she thinks she's found satisfaction, she'll let you lot go."

Buffy turned and glared at him. "Don't you even think about it!" Buffy hissed.

"Then what would you suggest?" the Doctor demanded. "I've tried to interfere directly! Over and over again! If I don't do this, you know what the alternative has to be!"

Buffy said nothing.

Across the room, Giles froze, as he seemed to realize what they were discussing. He sank down on a nearby chair, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes.

"What's he talking about, Buffy?" asked Willow.

"I believe," muttered Giles, "he's proposing letting Glory kill him, instead of…" He paused, as if about to say the name, then deciding against it. "…all the rest of us."

"Oh, you are kidding me!" shouted Donna.

Buffy and the Doctor ignored her.

"Doctor, you said if you interfered directly—" Buffy started.

"The universal shift only occurs when _I'm_ about to destroy _Glory_ ," said the Doctor. "Not when _she_ destroys _me_. If I could just find some way to convince her…"

That was when Buffy seemed to catch the words. "Hang on. If you could 'find some way'?"

The Doctor stepped back.

"Oi!" shouted Donna. "What's wrong with you people? We are not killing anyone! And definitely not Time Boy! Capiche?"

"Didn't the Doctor mention something about how Glory had some mortal weakness in our dimensions, earlier?" Tara asked.

"Hey, yeah!" said Willow. "He did!"

"Of course there's a weakness!" said the Doctor. "That's what I keep trying to tell you."

"So why didn't you tell us what it was before now, Spaceman?" Donna demanded. "We're not going to go off and let you kill yourself when we could use this other weakness, instead."

"I did tell you!" the Doctor insisted. "Glory is trapped on Earth in an imperfect three-dimensional prison. Ben!"

"Oh, great!" said Xander. "And he changes the topic! Again! I'm starting to think he's doing exactly what he did when we were fighting the Mayor, Will."

"Yeah," grumbled Willow. "I can see the similarities."

The Doctor's brow furrowed. "Mayor? You save the world on a daily basis, and you lot were caught up in campaign politics?"

"He hasn't done that, yet!" Buffy hissed at the rest of them.

"Yeah?" said Xander. "Well that doesn't mean I'm about to let Mr. I'm-Completely-Okay-With-Letting-You-All-Get-Eaten-By-A-Giant-Snake get away with not telling us anything again!"

"Giant snake?" the Doctor asked. His eyes widened. "You don't mean…? No, but that's impossible…" He glanced around at the rest of them. "Richard Wilkins?"

Buffy slapped her hand onto her forehead.

"Who's this Richard Wilkins bloke, then?" Donna asked.

"Oh, someone I met a long time ago," said the Doctor. "Long, long time ago. Had some mad cap scheme about turning into a demon. Giant snake, really. Daft plan, considering it'd take him a good hundred and fifty years to complete it, at which point, any old person could defeat him by simply waiting until he'd fully transformed, then using enough firepower to completely destroy a major building. Like, say, a church, or an office building, or…"

"A school," Xander said.

The Doctor shrugged. "Yes, suppose that could work."

"Xander, don't you dare—" Buffy started, but she was too late.

"And you knew all along!" Xander said. "You knew exactly how to defeat the Mayor, and every single time we asked you, you never told us a single word!"

The Doctor blinked. "I didn't?"

"I can't believe this," Buffy muttered.

"What, really?" the Doctor asked. "Nothing at all? Not a single little itty bitty hint?" He gave a small shrug. "I'll have to remember that."

"That's right!" Xander said. "You didn't tell us anything even remotely useful that entire time, not even the fact that we couldn't kill the Mayor until after he turned into a giant snake! No, you just sat on the sidelines, laughing at us, even… though… we…" He trailed off, as he noticed the angry glares around him. "Okay. I can't help but notice that all of you are mad at _me_ , now."

"Xander," said Buffy, "the Doctor hasn't done any of that, yet! He didn't even know what we did until you blabbed it to him! Now he has to stay silent when he gets to that spot in time, or he'll cause a massive, universe-destroying paradox!"

"Huh?"

"If he'd said something useful to us in high school," Buffy explained, "then you wouldn't have brought this whole thing up right now. And then the Doctor wouldn't have known about the Mayor, or the school getting blown up, or how we got around the completely invulnerable to any physical harm a hundred days before the Ascension thing, and…"

"Completely invulnerable to any physical harm?" the Doctor asked. "What, really?"

"…and I'm just making it worse," Buffy concluded.

"I suppose that explains the shift in the Earth's morphic field," the Doctor muttered, scratching his head.

"I've still got no idea what I did wrong," said Xander. "It's alien-boy who was a total jerk! Not me!"

"I believe," said Giles, "although I honestly cannot fathom why, that until you brought the subject up, there was a chance the Doctor could have gone back and changed it."

"But… that makes no sense!" said Xander. "That all already happened! You can't just… go back and pretend it all happened differently!"

"Well, you can, sometimes," the Doctor said. "Depending on whether the event is fixed or in flux. It's like I was saying to Donna, see. Most events are—"

"You're confused, Xander," Willow cut in, noticing Xander's lost expression, "because you're pretending the Doctor lives like you. But he doesn't. He exists in four dimensions, not three. You're looking at the shadow, not the Doctor."

"Huh?" asked Xander.

"I think this time stuff just has to happen like that," Tara put in. "Like… in magic. For every good thing you create using magic, a bad thing follows. If you don't do magic, you might not understand that, but it still has to happen."

"Wait, so you're saying—" Xander started.

"We're saying that you screwed up," Buffy explained. "If you hadn't told the Doctor what his future was, he could have changed it. Got that?"

"Oh," said Xander. He shifted from foot to foot. "I'm… just… going to leave, now." He glanced around the room, then bolted out the door.

"All that aside," Giles said, turning back to the Doctor, "surely this Glory thing is not a paradox. Or if it is, perhaps there would be some way you could… get around it."

"No, it's not a paradox," the Doctor said. "It's some automatic reaction that's been written into the base-code of the universe. If I tell you what the weakness is, you lot forget it. Right away!"

"Wait, what?" asked Buffy.

The door to the Magic Box tingled open, and Dawn walked in. "Hey, what's up?" she asked.

"Dawn, what are you doing here?" asked Buffy.

"Hanging out," Dawn retorted. "What? You think I'm not grown up enough to handle your new Big Bad? Because… I can help! Really, I can."

"Donna," said Buffy, turning to her. "Could you take my sister and…?"

"Leave you alone, here, to send Spaceman off on some suicide mission?" said Donna. "Not likely!"

"Wow," said Dawn, looking at the gathered Scoobies. "I guess it's kind of tense in here."

"Skinny, here, has decided that the best way to protect the universe is to make your Big Bad take her revenge on him," Donna explained. "Which is not happening! But every time we try to get him to tell us some other way to defeat Miss Evilness, he changes the subject!"

"I'm not changing the subject!" the Doctor protested. "You just can't remember the answer after I finish telling it to you!"

"Wait, wait," said Willow, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Are you saying… that you've been telling us this weakness for weeks, now, and the moment we hear it, we forget?"

"Yes!" said the Doctor.

"Oh, you mean like those Silence guys?" said Dawn. "Because I've been keeping a tally for Buffy, and she's killed, like, hundreds of them since—" 

"Hey! Yeah! Like those Silence... kinda..." Willow frowned. "Wait, what were we talking about, again?" 

"Sorry, silent whats?" the Doctor asked.

"I think we're forgetting the subject at hand," said Giles. "First and foremost, we have to discover some way to defeat Glory."

"Maybe we could use magic to get around this memory-thing," Tara offered.

"If Dawn is correct, and this is similar to the Silence, then magic will do no good," said Giles. "We've tried magic on them, before, and the results are…"

"We don't know what the results are," said Tara, "because they're the Silence, and we can't remember them."

"As you say," Giles conceded. "So it stands to reason that magic would probably do nothing to defeat this sort of memory problem we're experiencing with Glory, either."

"Oh! What if we get the Silence to fight against Glory using this weakness thing?" said Dawn. "That'd be the most totally awesome fight ever!" 

"Except… we wouldn't remember any of it," Tara pointed out. "At all."

"If the Doctor would simply tell us what this so-called weakness is," Giles said, "then we could have something to go on. But his dogged determination to skirt around the issue is helping no one!"

"Okay, I'm starting to get confused," said Willow. "What do the Silence have to do with Glory?"

"Oi!" said Donna. "What's this silent whats-it you keep going on about?"

Buffy didn't speak. She was watching the Doctor. Watching as he stood there, no longer hearing the words that buzzed around him, a horrible look of utter misery washing across his expression. Not just utter misery. It was almost like… the way he'd looked, when he'd lost his memory, and had realized that Buffy, who he'd thought was his friend, had staked a vampire. As if the rules of the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to let this happen to him. As if… he — the Doctor, the guy who always had all the answers — didn't know what to do.

Buffy stepped forwards. "Doctor?" she asked.

He turned his head to look at her. And Buffy realized.

He didn't.


	26. Shadows, Part II

Buffy managed to catch the Doctor before he had a chance to leave. Okay, catch wasn't exactly the right word. Grabbed him the second before he entered his TARDIS and dragged him back would be a more accurate description.

"Elizabeth," said the Doctor, with a sigh.

"We need to talk," said Buffy. "In private. Right now."

"I'd love to," the Doctor said. "Really, I would! But Donna's—"

"Don't mind me," said Donna, with a wink at Buffy. "You two go talk! I'll just be waiting in here until you're done." And she went back inside the TARDIS, and shut the door.

The Doctor turned to face Buffy. "I've told you I'm sorry."

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Then you usually try to say something to piss me off, so I'll hit you. And I think I've worked out why. Mr. Guilt-Trip."

"If I can find another way, I promise, I'll do it," the Doctor said. "But time is running out. The universe lets me interfere less and less with this timeline. If I don't do something soon, Elizabeth, there's not going to be a universe left!"

"Dawn and I were talking, earlier today," said Buffy. "And Dawn told me something interesting. Apparently, whenever she's nice to you, you completely flip out. You get really, really angry at her for being 'a wonderful human being that's worth saving'."

"That's… not exactly what I said," the Doctor told her.

"Dawn has no idea what she's done wrong," said Buffy, "but it's really bothering her that you keep getting angry. She said she's pretty sure you want her to beat you up or something."

"And you'd object?" the Doctor asked.

"Probably not," Buffy conceded. "But Dawn objects. She doesn't want to attack you. She wants you to be her friend."

"I can't ever be her friend."

"You already are!" Buffy snapped. "I was at the Magic Box! I know what you said. If you could _figure out some way_ to make Glory come after you, instead of her. Figure out some way! You've tried it before, haven't you?"

The Doctor didn't answer.

"I might not be able to process multiple timelines, like you can, but sometimes, when I focus really hard, I can tell how often this universe has been writing you out," said Buffy. "And it's been writing you out a lot more than you've been showing up here. Which means you've been showing up without telling me, or — I'm guessing — Donna, to try to deal with Glory on your own."

"I… I have to," the Doctor insisted. "For your sake."

"And then there's that other thing you said!" said Buffy. "That whole thing about how the universe never squeezes you out when Glory destroys you, just when you've destroyed her. I know it's all gotten wiped out, and everything's been put back the way it was before, but… if it hadn't… you'd be dead by now, wouldn't you? You'd have given up your life for my sister."

"It's not…" The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "She's your sister."

"Why can't you just admit it?" Buffy snapped. "You're not doing this because she's my sister, anymore! You're doing it because she's your friend!"

The Doctor looked away from Buffy. "She's not—"

"Every single time you speak to her," said Buffy, "you're trying to cushion the blow. Telling her that memory makes the person, that it's better to be remembered and real than to be real and wiped out of the universe's memory. You even told her about your granddaughter! You've confessed things to her that you'd never tell me in a million years. This isn't about _me_ , anymore. You don't want to kill my sister because of her. _That's_ why you want people to beat you up! _That's_ why you keep trying to make me pissed off at you! Because you're angry at yourself for wanting to make sure she survives!"

"I have to do the right thing," the Doctor said. "And you can't stop me."

"So what's the right thing, in this situation, then?" asked Buffy.

"Avoiding universal destruction."

"Even if it means killing my sister?"

"Yes."

Buffy crossed her arms. "Okay."

The Doctor stared at her. "Sorry?"

"Kill her," said Buffy. She waited, as the Doctor kept staring. "Go ahead! I'm not stopping you."

"Elizabeth, you can't just—"

"That's talking," Buffy pointed out. "That's not killing."

The Doctor shut his mouth, but didn't move. And as the night air tingled against their skin, as the cool breeze wafted between them, it was clear that the Doctor wasn't going to.

"See, I think I've worked you out," said Buffy. "You keep talking big and sounding impressive and making these huge speeches so we don't realize that, behind it all, you've got no idea what to do. Yeah, you're smart. Yeah, you've got a time machine. But all that bluster and bravado, that's just the shadow. The part we see in our little dimensions. Behind it, you're just like all the rest of us."

"This is bigger than you could possibly imagine," the Doctor warned Buffy. "If I don't stop this, then it's not just the multiverse that will fall apart. The lock will snap, and then—"

"So stop it," said Buffy. "Kill her."

The Doctor didn't move.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "That's what I thought. Even when I step aside and let you, you still won't go through with it. And that's why I trust you."

"You what?"

"I trust you," said Buffy. "With Dawn's life, with my life, with all of it. Not because you know everything. But because you don't. And when it comes down to it, when it comes to pressing that final button and condemning an innocent person, you're not a killer."

"Coward," said the Doctor. "Every time."

Buffy leaned back against the tree, her eyes fixed on the ground. "And, you know, the freakiest thing about this is that… I'm scared."

"You have every right to be scared," the Doctor told her. "What with everything that's going on—"

"Not just about that," said Buffy. "Not just about my sister or Mom or Glory. I'm scared about you."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"I've known you for only three years," said Buffy. "Dawn… she's my life. I've known her forever. Losing her would be so devastating, so completely and utterly life shattering…" She glanced back at the Doctor. "So why does it hurt so much when you tell me you've died for her? Why does it make me so scared that I can't even think straight?"

"It's a telepathic—"

"Don't tell me it's a telepathic instinct!" Buffy snapped. "I had that same telepathic instinct to keep Faith alive, and I shoved a knife in her gut. This isn't an instinct or a primeval urge or… or… any alien whatever you want to say it is! When I imagine you dead, I get more scared than I've ever been in my whole life."

"If it's a choice between my own life or your sister's…"

"You're choosing my sister," said Buffy. "Even if she wasn't my sister, you'd still choose her. Because that's the kind of person you are. But that's not the choice, is it?" She took a deep breath. "Whatever you were trying to do, it didn't work. Glory didn't take the bait. She didn't believe you."

The Doctor paused a moment, hesitating. "She didn't," he confessed.

"So how… did you almost die, then?" asked Buffy. "How'd you manage to take her down?"

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "First time, she tried to absorb my mental energy," he said. "I turned the trick back on her. She wasn't going down without a fight, and I… well, I suppose I didn't die, exactly, just… fell into an eternal chasm of madness and insanity. Till time got reversed. Then I tried to… take advantage of that weakness I mentioned. One time it worked just the way it was supposed to — until time got reversed, that is. Usually, she comes out to stop me, and I have to trick her into fixing the process herself. Fairly certain I died at least twice doing that. Till time reversed. Then I tried blaming myself for—"

"Stop," said Buffy. She had her eyes squeezed shut, now, and was breathing hard.

"You all right?"

"You _died_ ," said Buffy. "Not regenerated died. You _died_."

"Well, not actually died," the Doctor said. He gestured down at himself. "Got reversed, see? All better!"

"If nothing had happened to Glory," said Buffy, "would time have reversed? Would you have come back?"

"No," the Doctor admitted. "I… don't think I would."

Buffy took a long, deep breath. "Then stop trying to kill yourself."

"I'm only trying to save your—"

"Doctor," said Buffy, taking his hand in her own — if only to reassure herself that it was really there. "Please. Please. Stop."

The Doctor looked like he wanted to pull his hand away from hers, but didn't. "You'll want to do it yourself, someday," he warned her. "Kill me. When this is done."

"Because other-me did," said Buffy.

"Well, yes."

"And that automatically means that I'm going to."

"Yes."

"You've got no idea what you're talking about, do you?" said Buffy. "This Line Hopper thing is just some theory. It's not actually supposed to happen. It's probably never happened before. Which means… you've got no idea how it works. You're just making things up."

The Doctor hesitated. "Well, maybe a bit."

"I think," said Buffy, "that beneath the moralizing and the self-assurance and the ego, you're just as lost and scared and confused as I am."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"Maybe that's why imagining you dead freaks me out so much," said Buffy. "Because you're so much like me." She stared down at the grass beneath her. "Or maybe not. Maybe it's just because I almost lost Mom, and I'm so close to losing Dawn. Sometimes, it feels like I'm grabbing onto you as tight as I can. Because if I lost you and both of them… I don't think I'd understand how to live in the world anymore."

"Elizabeth—"

"Or maybe it's just because I remember what it's like," said Buffy, looking back at him. "When the universe shifts, and you get pulled out of events, and I forget you. I don't remember everything, but I remember enough to know that… I need you."

"You really, really don't," the Doctor said, with a little laugh.

"Doctor," said Buffy, as if saying it enough would make him believe it, understand it. "I need you. I need you more now than I've ever needed you before."

"In the future," said the Doctor, "you're going to be remembered as one of the greatest military strategists of all times. Your name will go down as a legend. Every single book on strategy, tactics, and training will refer to you as—"

"I know," said Buffy. "You… kind of accidentally showed me, once. In your own future. I'm famous, legendary, some super iconic military leader person. The woman who changed the world." She sighed. "Except… I'm not. You know I'm not."

"You're Buffy Anne Summers," the Doctor said. "The most brilliant, devoted, brave—"

"And you're just the all-knowing Time Lord who controls the fate of the universe and has everything all planned out," said Buffy. "That's just the impression we leave, Doctor. The shadows. That's not who we are." She squeezed his hand a little tighter. "You're my Doctor, and I'm your Elizabeth. And I need you."

"Honestly, you don't," the Doctor insisted. "You're just as good at fighting off the monsters as I am. Better, in fact. You're far more important to the history of this planet than I'll ever be. You're—"

"Not like that!" cried Buffy. "Don't you get it? I don't need you to fight off the monsters! I don't need you to give me the answers! I don't need you to save the universe or save the world or anything! I need you because… if you ever left me, I'd fall apart."

The Doctor paused. "I… see."

"Yeah."

"And… what exactly do you want from me, then?" the Doctor asked. "Because I'm a wee bit fuzzy on what that means."

"I've never wanted anything from you," said Buffy. "All I ever wanted was you. Just… you."

"Ah," said the Doctor. "And… that would be some sort of human… thing, then?"

"No," said Buffy. "It's not a promise, not a commitment, not a hookup or invitation or anything. It's just… who I am. Behind the shadows. I'm someone who needs you."

She could see the moon glint off his eyes, the soft light from the porch trickle across his chin. She could feel the double pulse in his hand, could hear the hint of that uncertain, terrified tremor in his breathing — the one he was so very good at hiding, after 900 years of experience. He took her other hand in his own.

"Elizabeth," he said.

And the way he said it was just the way she loved hearing him say it. That beautiful, vibrant ring in his voice, that awe and reverence and a little bit of cheek, that sweetness and sincerity that made the name somehow become uniquely hers. As if it could never be anyone else's.

She kissed him.

She knew she shouldn't, and she knew that they should be stopping this, that they were just friends and that he didn't want to take it any further, but… when he said her name like that, like it was a promise and a prayer and a hope all wrapped in one — he always looked at her like she was the entire universe to him and she was as beautiful as any planet he'd saved . And she just couldn't help herself. She needed to bring him closer, to share everything with him, even the same breath, to melt into him and show him that she was the same, that she didn't know anything either, that she had no idea what she was doing.

She wanted him to need her the way she needed him.

And, faster than the last time this had happened, he responded. Began kissing back. Slowly, at first, then with a growing intensity, as if he were trying to grab onto her and could feel her slipping through his fingers. In that moment, it seemed he no longer cared that they weren't like that, no longer cared that they were only supposed to be hugging and exchanging high-fives, no longer cared about the future or the past or anything beyond this second. All that mattered was the fact that they had one another, right here, right now.

Buffy pulled away, panting for breath. It was only then that she realized they'd pulled one another close — so close that she could feel his hearts thudding against her chest, could feel the ghosting of his breath along her face, could feel that tingle of desire pulsing through them.

They met one another's eyes, and began again, without a word spoken between them.

Buffy put her hand up into his hair, as she kissed him, and he slipped his hand through her own, and they were just desperately trying to become closer, because there was so much space between them, so much distance and darkness separating them and if they could just be together, if they could just eliminate everything they had between them, then everything would be perfect, everything would be…

"Well, look what we have here," interrupted an English accented voice. "Only a short time since you dumped Captain Cardboard, and it looks like goldilocks has already found herself a new shag."

The Doctor and Buffy jumped away from one another, as if they'd just been caught putting up pro-Dalek posters. There, standing in front of them, was Spike, whiskey bottle in hand, a proud smile on his face. It fell as he recognized the Doctor.

"Oh, bugger," said Spike.

He stumbled backwards, nearly falling over but catching himself on the nearby railing of the house.

"Listen, mate," said Spike to the Doctor. "This… this is not how it seems. It's just…" He faltered, then pointed behind them and shouted, "Look over there!" Then he spun around and bolted.

Buffy and the Doctor, having _not_ looked over there, just watched Spike run off into the distance. The mood was gone, all momentum between them had vanished in an instant, as if it were never there at all.

And it might as well never have been.

The Doctor would never bring it up. Ever. He'd act like it had never happened, just the way he always did. And Buffy wouldn't risk bringing it up, because she knew that if they talked about it, that'd make it real. And if it was real, it might turn into one of those scary 'domestic things' or 'human things' that he was always running away from. That might make him run away from her, and then he'd never come back, and Buffy couldn't… _couldn't_ … lose him. It was better to be… whatever they were… than to lose him entirely.

Damn Spike for screwing up their one chance at taking things further!

"I hate that guy," Buffy muttered.

The Doctor looked after Spike, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You shouldn't, you know," he said. "He's a better man than I'll ever be."

"Don't get started on another one of your guilt trips!" Buffy grumbled. "You may be imperfect, but there's no way you're worse than vampires."

"Not all vampires," said the Doctor. "Just one."

"Who's killed two Slayers," Buffy pointed out. "And tried to kill me. A lot. And would be dead, I should add, if you hadn't been all annoyingly don't-stake-Spike and stuff."

"Everyone deserves a chance," the Doctor said. "Even vampires."

"Spike's on chance 219 right now," Buffy pointed out. "And he's still just as evil as he was on chance 1." She shook her head. "You know, sometimes, I think I get you. And other times… it's like I have no idea what you could possibly be thinking."

The Doctor met her eyes with his own. "Maybe," he said, "you're just reacting to my shadow."


	27. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dawn discovers what -- and who -- the Key really is.

Dawn and Spike sat inside the Magic Box, the lights turned out, reading from Giles' handwritten journal by candlelight. It was the journal that Dawn had noticed earlier, the one that Giles had been concealing from her. There was something important that Buffy kept not telling her, and Dawn was going to figure out what it was.

"Where did he learn to write so bloody small?" Spike muttered around a cigarette. "From a fruit fly?"

Dawn perused the page of the journal. "Wait, here's something. Uh, 'Tarnis, 12th century. One of the founders of the monks of the order of Dagon.'"

Spike got up from the floor, taking another puff on his cigarette and wandering around the Magic Box as Dawn kept reading.

"'Their sole purpose seems to have been as protectors of the Key'," Dawn read.

Spike gave a laugh. "Brown robe types are always protecting something," he said, studying a ritual Hindi statue. "It's the only way they can justify giving up girls." He turned around, his eyes landing on something. "Hey! Troll hammer!" He tried to jerk it up, but overbalanced, and it came crashing to the floor with a loud clang.

Dawn glanced back at Spike, who let the hammer fall.

"Didn't go with my stuff, anyways," he muttered.

Dawn turned back to the journal. "'The Key from our universe is not directly described in any known literature'," she read, "'but all research indicates an energy matrix vibrating at a dimensional frequency beyond normal human perception. Only those outside reality can see the Key's true nature.'" She glanced up at Spike, who'd made his way back over to her. "Outside reality? What's that mean?"

Spike took another puff on his cigarette. "Second sight blokes, mostly." He put the cigarette out on one of the shelves, and went over to sit beside Dawn once more. "Or just your run-of-the-mill lunatics."

Dawn had a sudden feeling of unease settle through her, as she remembered all the crazy people that had come up to her, recently, telling her that she didn't belong, that they could see her, that they knew what she was. She pushed the thought aside.

"What else does it say about this… Key?" Spike asked, looking at an item he'd picked up from the display case beside him. "Is it made out of gold? Maybe we can hawk it. Split the take."

Dawn looked down at the book, again, and continued reading. "Um, the Key is also susceptible to necromanced animal detection, particularly those of canine or serpent construct."

And again, that feeling of unease, as she remembered that weird enchanted snake that had burst into the Magic Box, slithering across the ground until it found… her.

Dawn just stared ahead, without any power or strength to go on. The thoughts were whirling around in her mind, all gathering in a cloud that she just couldn't stop from consuming her.

_"I can't even look at you," the Doctor had shouted at her. "I can't even see you without thinking of everything I've lost. You're the worst thing that's ever come into my life…"_

_The way he'd asked her — begged her — to hate him._

_The way he'd looked at her, that first time he saw her, as if his entire world had just come apart, as if he were lonely, so very, very lonely, and nobody could ever lift it from him._

_The way that Buffy had grabbed the Doctor and dragged him into the TARDIS, murder in her eyes._

_"What have I done?" the Doctor had asked, just after he'd saved Dawn's life — like he'd done the worst thing in the world._

Spike took the journal from her, examining it with a frown of concentration. "'The monks possessed the ability to transform energy, bend reality'," Spike read. His eyebrows arched. "Blah, blah, blah!" He dropped the journal. "Good Lord, Giles writes as dull as he talks, doesn't he?"

Dawn said nothing.

_"You… have a sister."_

Spike picked up the journal, and started reading again. "They started work," Spike continued to read, "but the Council has suggested to us that they were interrupted. Presumably by… Glory. They obviously did manage to accomplish the taste…" Spike squinted. "Accomplish the _task_ ," he corrected. "They had to make sure that the Slayer would protect it with her life, so they sent the Key to her in human form."

Dawn could barely breathe.

"In the form of a sister."

* * *

Dawn just couldn't come to terms with it. Couldn't understand. Couldn't make sense of it. Was she real? Was she nothing? Her whole life, was that all just a lie? Every single memory she had, every single thing she owned — they didn't exist, none of it was supposed to exist!

She wasn't supposed to exist!

And they'd all lied to her. Every single one of them. They'd lied to her over and over again, like they didn't even care! Her mom… Buffy… everyone. Not telling her… that her whole life was a lie. That she'd only been alive for six months. That she was nothing, nothing but a key, just… Excalibur! Some stupid sword! That was what she was! She was nothing more than a stupid sword from a stupid Arthurian Legend.

_Whatever this Excalibur thing is, it's bad. I'm talking seriously bad. Worse than killing off two-thirds of the world bad._

And it was her. She was just this… thing. This stupid thing that could destroy tons of stuff and make the universe fall apart and everything! And… why hadn't they told her? Why hadn't they said anything? Why did they not care about her at all?

She _felt_ real! Everything she'd ever done, all the things that had happened to her… it all _seemed_ real!

But it wasn't! None of it! None of it at all!

She wasn't a person! She wasn't anything! She didn't even exist!

Dawn walked through the park by her house, staring at the swings, at the grass, at all the places she remembered. But… the things she remembered… they didn't happen. None of them ever happened.

Nothing.

She stalked off, down the street, letting the tears stream down her cheeks, not caring who saw her or what happened, or what was going on. None of it mattered, anyways. None of it was real. None of it was anything.

She wasn't anything.

"Dawn?"

Dawn's head snapped up. There, just in front of her, stood a skinny man in a pinstripe suit, looking at her with that stupid pretend sympathy that he always had, like she was actually something real and worthwhile and normal. Like she was a person.

She turned around, and walked the other direction.

"Dawn Summers," the Doctor called after her, in his low, steady, calm voice.

Dawn stopped in place, her eyes fixed straight ahead, her jaw set. "Get away from me."

And if it had been anyone else — her sister or her mother or Willow or Xander or Giles — they'd have shouted, run after her, told her to stop and listen to them, started telling her so many platitudes and stupid lies about how they loved her and she was real and all sorts of things that were just… nothing! Nothing at all!

The Doctor didn't.

"Ah," he said, instead. "You've worked it out."

Dawn squeezed her eyes shut, spinning around on her heel. This stupid jerk alien, who just had a way of digging his heel into any open wound you happened to have in your soul, and he'd lied to her, too, tried to make her feel like she mattered when he knew all along that she didn't, and how dare he? How dare he!

"Get away from me!" Dawn shouted. "I hate you!"

The Doctor didn't move. Just kept his eyes locked on hers. "Good."

That made a whole new surge of anger rise up in Dawn. She flew towards him. "Why?" she screamed. "Why? Why? Why? Why?"

"You know why," the Doctor told her.

And Dawn did know why. The way he'd looked at her that first time… the way he'd flipped out when she was nice to him… the way he'd told her to run and never let him find her…

Dawn just gave him a defiant glare, and tried to stop a sniffle. "So go on, then," she said. "If I'm so evil, go on and kill me! It's not like it matters."

"Life always matters."

"It's not life!" Dawn shouted, stomping her feet on the ground. "I'm not real! I'm not anything! I'm just a Key! I… I shouldn't even exist!"

"Neither should I," the Doctor told her.

Dawn froze. Staring at him. "What?"

The Doctor put his hands into his pockets, and gave a long, steady sigh. "Dawn Summers," he said, walking towards her, his eyes fixed on her own. "You're more real than I am."

"I'm not!" Dawn insisted. "I'm just a Key! I'm nothing!"

"You have a home," the Doctor told her. "A family. Friends. A mum and sister who love you. I don't."

"They're not my family," Dawn gritted through her teeth.

"You remember them as your family," the Doctor told her.

"That doesn't matter," said Dawn. "Everything that's ever happened to me — it's not real. None of it. None of those things ever happened!"

The Doctor nodded. "You're right," he said. "They never happened. But that doesn't mean they aren't real."

"Shut up!" Dawn snapped. "Just shut up! Stop trying to make me feel better! You're the one who wants to kill me! You're the one who's known before anyone else!" She yanked the string off from around her neck, and waved it at him. "And what was this supposed to be? Some kind of joke?" She threw it at him. "Just take your stupid TARDIS, and get out of here!"

The Doctor frowned, bent down and picked up the small Yale key on the string. Dawn let him. She turned and started to march off the other way. Stupid Doctor. Trying to make her think she existed. Trying to make her feel all good about herself. She wasn't a person! She was just his stupid Excalibur thing he was trying to get rid of! That's all!

This time, there was a sudden burst of footsteps behind her, and then a strong but gentle hand rested on her shoulder, turning her around to face him. He raised the TARDIS key up.

"Where did you get this?"

"You gave it to me!" Dawn hissed.

"When?"

"I don't know!" said Dawn. "You gave it to Buffy, and then Buffy gave it to me. You told me to wear it, like some great big neon sign saying, 'Key over here!'"

The Doctor stared at her, a dark intensity in his eyes, but also something else. Something suddenly bright. Something that seemed to be spreading across his face, bursting through him like a beam of sunlight peaking out from behind the clouds. He suddenly swept her up into a tight hug, spinning her around so that her feet didn't even touch the ground, and…

He was laughing.

"Brilliant!" he was muttering. "So brilliant! Absolutely and completely brilliant!"

"Put me down!" Dawn shouted.

The Doctor seemed to snap back to himself, and put her down. He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

"What is wrong with you?" Dawn snapped. "What… what…" But she had too many things to say, too little opportunity to figure out how to say them.

"Do you know what this is?" the Doctor asked, waving the key in front of her.

"A TARDIS key," Dawn said.

" _My_ TARDIS key," the Doctor corrected. "With the perception filter! It means — it has to mean — you're going to make it! Dawn Summers! You are going to survive!"

And there was so much relief flooding through him, Dawn just… couldn't think of what to do. What to even say.

The Doctor faltered. "Ah. You're… confused."

"You want to kill me."

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Thing is, there was this other…" he trailed off, then shook his head. "I suppose, I always thought, in the end, that I'd have to…" He stopped, then tried again. "I knew. From the moment I met you, I always knew what you were. I just… didn't know what to do about it."

Dawn didn't answer him, just glared at him.

"Truth is," said the Doctor, "Dawn Summers, I can see you."

"What?"

The Doctor waved his hand just beside her arm. "The energy. I can see it." He glanced up to meet her eyes. "I told you, Dawn Summers. You are far, far more real than I am."

Dawn stepped away from him.

"It hurts," he admitted. "Remembering that I shouldn't exist. Remembering that every single part of my childhood has never happened, that every single person I knew and loved on my home-world never existed. And that's what I see every time I look at you. I see that I should not be here."

"I don't… understand," Dawn said.

"I can see you," the Doctor said, "because I'm outside of reality. Completely outside of it." He ran a hand through his hair. "No home. No past. I come from nowhere, nowhen. Every event I remember from my childhood — none of it ever really happened. Wiped out of the universe." He glanced down at the TARDIS key. "All I have left are memories. Just like you."

Dawn didn't answer.

"When all you have are memories, Dawn, you cling to them," said the Doctor. "Because they make you who you are. They may never have happened, but… they're more real than anything else out there."

Dawn hugged her arms to her chest, shifting from foot to foot. "Buffy doesn't think I'm real," she muttered.

The Doctor gave a soft laugh. "Oh, I'd say she does."

"She doesn't," said Dawn. "I heard her. She said I wasn't a real person."

"I thought she was going to kill me, you know," said the Doctor. "When she found out the truth. I even programmed in an emergency system in the TARDIS to take Donna home after I was gone."

"She's just protecting me because she's supposed to," Dawn muttered. "That's her job."

The Doctor sighed. "No, it's not. That's the problem. Her job is to protect the world and the universe. Her job is to destroy you."

Dawn felt her jaw trembling.

"That's why I was never planning to tell her," said the Doctor, gazing off into the distance. "What you were. What it meant. In fact, the only person I was planning to tell was… well, you."

"Me?"

"I've been trying to tell you for a while, now," said the Doctor. "Ever since that time, in the hospital, when Donna…" He trailed off. Then swallowed, and looked back at Dawn. "I know what you are, Dawn Summers. I know what it means. You are the most dangerous girl in the entire universe, and you can't ever forget that. You have a responsibility greater than myself, greater than your sister, greater than anyone else. Everything that ever is, was, and will be is in your hands."

"You… you were going to tell me and not Buffy?" Dawn asked.

"The responsibility is yours," said the Doctor. "Not hers. If it weren't for the universe… pushing me out… you'd have known by now." He gave a small shrug. "Difference in philosophies. As I said."

"What am I?" Dawn asked, in a low, frightened voice. "Why am I dangerous?"

"You're the seventh segment to the Key to Time," the Doctor said. "It's only supposed to have six segments, Dawn. While you stay on Earth, in this time zone, you are stable. But if you ever venture into the future or onto another planet… the Key will become unstable, the Lock will snap, and you'll let it out."

"Let what out?"

The Doctor leveled dark eyes at her. "The end of the universe. The end of all universes. The end of time."

Dawn swallowed. "And that's… what Buffy has to protect?"

"No," said the Doctor, walking up to her. "That's what _you_ have to protect. Because the Key might be what you are. But it's not _who_ you are."

"But Buffy is the Slayer…"

"And you're a human being," the Doctor told her, handing her back the TARDIS key. "You're Dawn Summers. That means something."

"No, it doesn't," said Dawn. "I'm not—"

"You're brilliant," the Doctor told her. "And brave. And determined. And so very, very kind."

Dawn gave a hmph.

"Everyone else I've met, here — your sister included — disliked me and wanted me dead the moment they saw me," said the Doctor. "Everyone else hated me, suspected me, wanted to harm me simply because I'm not human. Except for you." He gave her a small smile. "Kind. Compassionate. And brave. Willing to trust and love and admire, even when others tell you not to. That's amazing, Dawn. More amazing than anything else."

And the weirdest thing was that Dawn could tell, from that look in the Doctor's eyes, that he really believed that. He really believed that she was something special — more special than being the stupid wussy Slayer — just because she'd been a nice person.

The Doctor stepped forwards, and wrapped Dawn's fingers around the TARDIS key. "Your death is not a fixed point in time, Dawn," he told her. "That's what this key means. That's what this is telling me. There's a probability that you, and I, and everyone else will survive this. But it's up to you. Do you understand?"

"Why… why are you doing this to me?" Dawn asked. "Why do you keep treating me like I'm… super-cool and stuff? I thought I was evil and going to destroy the universe!"

"Do you want to destroy the universe?"

"No."

"Then don't," said the Doctor, as if it were that easy.

And when he looked at her like that, Dawn kind of felt like… maybe it was. Maybe she _could_ do this after all! Dawn stuffed the TARDIS key into her pocket, and looked back at the Doctor.

"Okay," she said. "I'll save the universe."

"Brilliant!" said the Doctor, standing up straight, and grinning at her. "Now. You'd better get home, while I…" He paused, then winced. "You're… not going to tell your sister I'm here, right?"

"Why?" asked Dawn. "Are you visiting your secret girlfriend or something?"

The Doctor blew a breath out of his cheeks. "She's not exactly my girlfriend — what with the constant torture and the deaths and whatnot…"

"Huh?"

"I'm about to do something I promised your sister I wouldn't," the Doctor admitted. "Just… best not… tell her I'm around."

"It's her birthday, you know," said Dawn.

"Well, then!" said the Doctor. "You'd better be off home! Best birthday present — her sister."

Dawn hesitated, and the Doctor noticed.

"Dawn," said the Doctor. "Please. Promise me you'll go home."

Dawn looked up into his eyes. Why did he trust her? No one else trusted her — with anything. Not with her own safety. Not with their secrets. Not even with knowledge of who she was. And he trusted her to make sure the universe didn't end.

Dawn began to nod her agreement…

* * *

A shudder ran down Dawn's spine. No, not just that. Down the spine of the whole world.

Dawn shook it off. She kept walking down the alleyway. What did any of that matter when she wasn't real? None of it was real!

An ambulance rushed by her, and she glanced at it. Stupid ambulance. Stupid hospital. Stupid doctors. Stupid, stupid, doctor, dumb, doctor, yucky, doctor…

_Dawn Summers, you're more real than I am._

Dawn blinked. The thought had come to her as if whispered across a gust of wind. Like there was someone… something… missing. Gone. Not real.

Yeah, because she wasn't real. She knew that. Not real, missing, gone, created from nothing. Just a blob of energy, that's all.

She didn't exactly know why she wound up walking to the hospital.


	28. Popcorn Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy is frustrated that the Doctor won't let her stake vampires. But her body language suggests she's frustrated for another reason entirely.

Buffy didn't know if it was her bad mood, or the fact that the Doctor had been doing exactly this for the last 3 years, but that night, when the Doctor plucked the stake out of her hand seconds before she could kill a vampire during her patrol, Buffy completely snapped.

She spun around, and charged at the Doctor, instead, trying to grab back the stake or — failing that — just grab him. He dodged her instinctively, confused.

"What—?"

"Stop doing that!" Buffy shouted. She grabbed at him again, and managed to catch his arm — the one not holding the stake, annoyingly enough for her — and twisted him around so that he faced her. "What is wrong with you?"

"What is—?"

"Stop saving vampires!" Buffy shouted, letting go of his arm so she could make another grab for the stake. He jumped backwards, and Buffy lunged at him, grasping him, instead, by his suit jacket, thrusting him towards her. "They're evil! They're insane! They're just… monsters that have stupid crushes on people they shouldn't have and… and… stop saving vampires!"

"I'm just giving them a choice," the Doctor told her, catching her right wrist in one of his cool hands.

Buffy shook him. "Then stop doing that!" she cried. "You show up, while I'm on patrol, running around the cemetery like… like… I don't know, a hot dog on legs — and then you taunt and beg the vampires to drink your blood! And when I try to stake them, you just steal the stakes and… let them swarm all over you!"

"I'm giving them back their souls," the Doctor said. "Their humanity."

"You could die!" Buffy said, dragging him closer to her. "They could kill you! It's a huge risk!"

"Actually, compared to most of the risks I take on a daily basis," the Doctor told her, "this one's pretty small."

Buffy barely restrained herself from smacking him until he saw reason. "They want to kill you!"

"So does most of the universe," the Doctor replied. "Never stopped me, before."

The vampire that Buffy had been attacking coughed, a little ways away. "Um, hello?" he asked them. "Am I getting staked, over here, or what?"

"No!" the Doctor shouted, while Buffy, at the same time, shouted, "Yes!"

They glared at one another.

Buffy let go of him and sprung to the left, trying to snatch the stake again, but the Doctor raised it out of reach just in time, and she slid against the ground. She got up and jumped on his back, twisting her legs around his stomach, her head on his shoulder so she could shout in his ear as she tried to grab the stake with her left hand, hanging on with her right.

"Why won't you just admit that vampires are creepy, sadistic maniacs who, if given a chance, would torture, kill, and destroy you just because they thought it was fun?" Buffy demanded, as he tried to shake her off.

"I'm not debating that point," said the Doctor, finally managing to dislodge her and topple her to the ground. He spun around to face her, as she jumped to her feet. "But I have a way to restore their humanity. How can I kill them, when I know I could cure them?"

"Because if you don't kill them, they could kill you!" Buffy said. "What if everything gets screwed up and they kill you before your vamp-away works? What about that, wise guy?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'd regenerate."

Which just made Buffy that much angrier, because it was true and it went completely against Buffy's point. She flew at him, and he dodged her again, that stake still out of reach. She managed to catch hold of his wrist.

"Well maybe I don't want you to regenerate!" said Buffy. "Maybe I like you looking all pinstripey!"

"Elizabeth, if any vampire tried to kill me, it'd be suicide, and they know it," said the Doctor, calmly. "It's a small risk. And even if it were a large one, I'd still do it. I can make them human, again. I can give them their lives back. If I can, then I have to. You know that."

"Oh, yeah? And what about the vampires that you just let run away?" Buffy asked. "The ones you _don't_ turn human?"

The Doctor twisted his wrist out of her hand. "They won't be much trouble."

"They're vampires!" Buffy insisted, advancing on him, backing him towards a mausoleum. "They're going to run off and torture people! Kill people! They won't stop just because you said a few mean-sounding words!"

"She's right, you know," said the vampire, who'd somehow wound up with a bag full of popcorn, munching it as he watched the two of them shouting at each other. "We won't."

"And if they make the wrong choice, then they'll die," the Doctor said, shoving the hand holding the stake behind his back. "I've told them that."

"No, they won't," Buffy growled, "because _you_ keep stealing my stakes before I can kill them!"

"There's always a better way," the Doctor told her.

Buffy grabbed him by his shoulders and thrust him against the mausoleum wall. "Not for vampires."

"For all creatures," said the Doctor, wrapping his free hand around her waist and trying to spin her away from him. "Any creature I come across. Vampires need to drink blood to survive. Their instincts make them crave human blood, but that's not their fault. They have to see that they can overcome that. They have to see they can change."

"They can't change!" said Buffy, leaning in closer. "They're monsters!"

"Because they're not human, you mean?" the Doctor asked her.

"No!" said Buffy. "Because they're evil, and vicious, and they like to kill and torture people!"

"Krillitaine were like that, too," said the Doctor. "I still gave them a chance."

Buffy stood on her tip-toes and leaned in close enough that her face was centimeters from his. "You don't give Daleks a chance."

The Doctor started at this. Buffy knew it unnerved him when she mentioned that she'd seen Daleks. He'd asked her about it, before, and she'd been as vague as she could be, considering it was in his future. But she knew he was worried about it.

Whatever. She wanted him to feel edgy and uneasy. She knew it was a low blow, but she didn't care.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her. "Vampires are not Daleks."

"Yeah, they are!" Buffy insisted. "They're hate filled, and evil, and—"

"Daleks are genetically incapable of feeling anything but anger and hatred," said the Doctor. "Vampires feel plenty beyond that. Love. Grief. Loneliness."

"Yeah, but it's all twisted and wrong and creepy!" She gestured at the vampire nearby with her right hand. "Like… this guy! See? He's totally excited to watch us fight! He's even eating popcorn!"

"Naw, I'm just waiting for the sex," said the vampire.

Buffy and the Doctor froze, and both swiveled their heads around towards the vampire.

"Huh?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, yeah," said the vampire, eating another popcorn kernel. "I mean, you two could stand around here talking about whether it's better to thrust hot, sweaty stakes into bodies, or if you should just let it go with the sucking and biting and licking, but I'm waiting until you stop talking and actually do something about it."

"What conversation were you listening to?" the Doctor asked him.

"Listening has nothing to do with it!" said the vampire. "The body language says it all."

The distraction allowed Buffy to twist the Doctor's arm around from behind his back and reclaim the stake that he'd taken from her. She darted away before he could grab it back. "See?" she demanded of him, pointing the stake at the vampire. "Twisted! Creepy! Weird!" She spun around and raced towards the vampire, ready to finish him off.

The Doctor leapt forwards and grabbed her by the shoulders, sliding her off her trajectory and removing the stake from her hands before she had a chance to kill the vampire in question. Buffy dug her heels into the dirt, and managed to stop herself, the Doctor still right on top of her back, clinging on as if he'd fall off if he let go. She grabbed at his hands — hooked above her chest, stake in their clutches — and tried to wrestle it away from him.

"All right, back entrance!" said the vampire. "Go for the unconventional!"

"Have you listened to how creepy and messed up this guy is!" Buffy shouted, now trying to shake the Doctor off her back so he'd drop the stake. "That's what they're like! They're dark and sexually twisted!"

"That doesn't mean you should kill them!" the Doctor insisted, swinging his arms over her head and slipping off her back, shoving the stake into one of his pockets.

Buffy did a backwards flip so she was facing him, her eyes dark and stormy. "They're part of a network of pure evil! They can't be better people, Doctor, because they're not people anymore! The person died, and all that's left is a demon inside that body."

"A biologically morphing parasitic life form," the Doctor said.

"Yes!"

"And doesn't that biologically morphing parasitic life form deserve a chance, too?" he asked her. "If it's not harming anyone—"

Buffy flew at him, clutching him by the shoulders. "They are harming people! They're biting their throats and killing them!" She tried to force his trench coat off his shoulders, so she could get at the damn stake he'd hidden in the pocket.

"But they might change," the Doctor told her, grabbing at her hands so she'd stop undressing him. "See that what they're doing is wrong. If I can show them that…"

"First Dawn, now you!" Buffy shouted, ripping her hands out of the Doctor's grip and stepping closer towards him, backing him towards a nearby tree. "I'm sick of saying this! Vampires do not change! They don't love, or… have crushes… or… anything! They can't be better, ever! They have no souls, and they're not going to get a soul unless you force it on them. They're not people who can make a choice, they're not aliens that can make themselves better, they're just evil sadistic murdering monsters that will always do the wrong thing!"

The Doctor shook his head. "I can't believe that."

Buffy threw her hands in the air. "Oh, because if you believe it, it has to be true."

"I can help people by believing in them," said the Doctor. "Giving them the courage to do the right thing."

Buffy turned to the vampire on the sidelines. "Hey, vampire! Guess what? You're evil, but the Doctor thinks you can be nice! What do you think about that?"

"I think you should stick your tongue down his throat!" the vampire told her.

"One chance," the Doctor told Buffy. "Everyone deserves one chance."

"Except for vampires, who get 50,000," said Buffy, edging closer to him. She glanced down and then thrust her hand down the Doctor's pocket. And… dear God it was big! Really, really big! It was any wonder that thing wasn't bulging!

The Doctor faltered. "That's… complicated," he insisted, dragging her hand out of his pocket where she'd apparently picked out a long, skinny balloon that was definitely not a stake.

Buffy squeezed the balloon until it popped, the Doctor's hand still tightly wrapped around her own. "And tell me this, wise guy. If you're so anti-staking vampires, why are they so scared you're going to stake them?"

The Doctor didn't answer, his hand still wrapped around her own.

"I'll tell you why," said Buffy, stepping in so close to him that she was practically on top of him. "It's because you don't do this! For some reason, the moment you arrive here, you go from being all Mr. Vampire Staker to Mr. Give-Them-A-Chancer."

The Doctor still didn't answer.

Buffy extracted her hand from his, and pushed him up against a nearby tree trunk, her hands just over his hearts, her knees interwoven with his own. "That's right, I've been doing some reading on you, Oncoming Storm!" said Buffy. "Everywhere else in history, you're the one destroying vampires right and left. The only time you're all forgiving and second-chancing is right around me. So I get it! You don't want me to kill vampires because it's me! I'm not listening, so just stop."

"Oh, yeah, that's it!" shouted the vampire from the sidelines, munching on his popcorn. "Give him the dominatrix routine!"

"It's not just around you," the Doctor said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"So… what? It's Sunnydale?" asked Buffy. "Vampires are evil everywhere else, but on the mouth of Hell, they're acceptable?"

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. "Not… exactly."

Buffy glared at him, since he'd just ruffled his hair in that way that made him look all cute and adorable. She reached up and purposely ruffled his hair randomly, so it wasn't as cute.

"Listen, Elizabeth," said the Doctor, catching her hand and removing it from his head. "There's a reason. A terribly good reason. But… I can't tell you, now."

Buffy reached out for his head again — because it seemed to annoy him — but he ducked, rolling out of the way, and popping up a short ways away from her.

"It's complicated," the Doctor told her. "And I'm sorry I can't say more. But I promise, I'll explain—"

Buffy swung around and sprung at him, tackling him to the ground, her arms wrapped around his chest.

"If you say what I think you're about to say, I will hit you!" Buffy snapped.

The Doctor tried to get free, but Buffy forced his arms against the ground, throwing her right leg on the other side of him so that she was straddling his stomach.

"I can't help but notice," said the Doctor, "that you're a wee bit more aggressive than usual, tonight."

"Yeah," said Buffy, leaning down to shout right in his face, "because you don't let me stake vampires!" She banged a fist down against the ground beside his head, just to make a point. "Not even Spike!"

"Spike?" the Doctor asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Is that what this is about?"

"No!" Buffy insisted.

"I'm just saying, because of all the emphasis you've placed on vampires showing their affection," the Doctor said. "I thought maybe—"

"I am not in love with Spike," Buffy growled, leaning in so close that their noses were touching.

"I'll say!" hooted the vampire along the sidelines. "Whoo-ey! You two are hot!"

Buffy and the Doctor determinedly ignored him.

"Do you know how pissed off I was at Riley for making vampires drink his blood?" said Buffy, adjusting her hands so they wrapped around the Doctor's shoulders. "And here you show up, all the time, getting the vampires to do exactly the same thing to you. For free! And it's about time I got mad at you about it!"

"Elizabeth—"

"Is it some kind of Time Lord fetish or something?" Buffy demanded. "Is that what this is? You just can't get enough of vampires drinking your blood, so you steal my stakes and don't let me kill them, because you want them to make you hot?"

"Hell yeah!" shouted the vampire from the sidelines.

"Elizabeth," said the Doctor, his eyes fixed on Buffy's. "It's not something I enjoy. It's just something I have to do."

"Not throughout the rest of history, you don't," said Buffy.

"I've already explained that."

"No," said Buffy. "You said you'd tell me later. That's not an explanation."

"As much of one as you gave me, when you told me how you know the Daleks," the Doctor replied.

Buffy said nothing, but her grip loosened a little, and their mouths drifted centimeters closer.

"Vampires can change, Elizabeth," said the Doctor. "It's difficult, but it's possible. One vampire can make the right choice and become better."

Buffy stared down into his eyes, and they were so in earnest, so determined to make her see that he was right…

"Sex! Sex! Sex! Sex!" the vampire from the sidelines chanted.

"Excuse me," said the Doctor, turning his head to look at the vampire. "We're trying to have a serious discussion about morality, here! If you'd kindly pop off until—"

"Oh, come on!" the vampire complained. "You guys have been all over each other this whole time! Now you're both lying down, nose-to-nose. You've practically got your tongue down her throat. She's straddling you. You've got the dirty-talk going full swing! Take off your clothes and do something already!"

Buffy glared at him, but realized that the Doctor had actually been resting his hands on the small of her back. Which was… kind of a bit more intimate than she'd thought.

"There is nothing sexual about our topic of discussion!" the Doctor insisted. "We're debating the moral implications of one of the finer points of saving the world. If you have anything to contribute…"

The Doctor winced, as a piece of popcorn landed squarely in his eye. Buffy batted another kernel flying towards her cheek. The vampire reached into the bag, and continued throwing popcorn at them.

"Boo! This is boring! Get on with the sex!" he shouted, flinging a popcorn kernel into Buffy's hair.

Buffy seethed, as the popcorn continued to rain down on them. She made to get up and stake the vampire bastard through its heart, but the Doctor had hooked his arms behind her back, and dragged her back down again, issuing her a warning stare.

"He may be annoying, but he hasn't actually killed anyone, yet," the Doctor told her.

"It's only a matter of time," Buffy insisted.

"Maybe this is good for him," the Doctor said. "Maybe some of what we've said has gotten through to him."

The vampire turned the popcorn bag upside down, realizing he was finally out. He crinkled the bag into a ball, and tossed it over his shoulder. "Whatever. I'm gonna go nip out and grab a teenage girl to snack on. Don't start the sex without me."

The Doctor and Buffy looked at each other. Then the Doctor took the stake out of his pocket, and handed it back to Buffy.

Buffy jumped to her feet, and two seconds later, the vampire was a pile of dust on the cemetery ground. She turned back to the Doctor, who was getting up off the ground, brushing the popcorn kernels off his suit.

"You know what?" she said. "I feel a lot better, now." She tossed the stake over her shoulder, and smiled at him. "Wanna go get a pizza or something?"

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets, grinning. "Why not?"


	29. Key

It had given her hope, once. Strength. That white envelope with the name "Elizabeth" on the outside. The TARDIS key for her sister.

Then Dawn had told her.

"Oh, yeah," said Dawn. "The Doctor got seriously worked up about it. He had no idea that he'd given it to me, and started going on about how I was going to survive and stuff. I guess that means it was… from his future-self, right?"

Buffy hadn't answered.

She went up to her room and shut the door, her back pressed against it. That key… not a symbol of hope. Just… one of causality. Of fate. Because the Doctor hadn't left that key for Dawn because she survived this. He'd left it because he remembered that Dawn had it in his own past. The key meant nothing. It gave Buffy no information about the future. None whatsoever.

Causality. Fate. Destiny. Causal chains that can't be broken. Patterns that can't be erased.

_I'm going to kill your sister._

Buffy gazed out at her room, her back still against the door. Her eyes fell on the white envelope lying on her bedside table.

_I'll have to do it. I'll have no other choice._

Her name written along the outside. No. Not her name. Other-her's name.

_She tried to change the future. But by trying to change it, she made it happen._

The Doctor had seen Buffy's future, once. This time, she'd seen his. What he did next, after this year was over, after everything ended. He would travel back into her own past, into December of 1999, and beg her to kill him — justice, he said, revenge, he said, he deserved it, he said. Buffy had thought — she'd been so sure — that he'd watched her — Buffy Summers — die. But he hadn't, he _hadn't_ , it _hadn't_ been _her_ …

_If I do the right thing, your sister dies._

One person dead. One person who'd fallen apart because of that death, tortured the Doctor, destroyed him, fed him to vampires, tried to convince him he was the most evil thing in the universe.

_When you fight soulless creatures, you become soulless yourself._

Buffy knew the future. She could see it before her eyes, so very clearly. The Doctor would kill her sister. And she would destroy him. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

It had to happen.

Just like the Doctor had to give her that envelope.

Inevitability. Causal chains. Fixed points in time. Fate. Destiny. Doom.

_In any timeline, in any set of circumstances, this is how we'll always wind up. As mortal enemies._

Buffy ran forwards, with an angry roar, and grabbed the envelope, ripping it into a thousand pieces. She shouted and screamed as she ripped those pieces into pieces, and then those pieces into pieces, and more and more until there was no envelope, no note, no nothing. Just a sprinkle of white paper.

Snowflakes in the California desert.

The next day, Buffy's mother died.


	30. Fly

"You know what's the most annoying thing about you?" said Glory, lunging forwards and plucking the Doctor out of his hiding place. "You never die. You're like that fly that keeps buzzing around that you just can't swat!"

"I'm a fly," the Doctor repeated. He nodded at the minions behind him. "And what are they, then?"

"My boys," Glory said. She gave a smile. "And they love me." She glanced over at them, her smile draining into something cold and icy. "Don't they?"

"Oh, yes, glorious, splendid, magnificent, all-exultant—"

"Bit fewer now than there were when we first met," the Doctor noted.

Glory gritted her teeth, because this had been something she'd noticed as well. Ever since the Doctor had come on the scene, a slow but steady trickle of her minions had been disappearing. Vanishing, as if into thin air.

"Some of us have turned traitor, and fled the power and might of our all-seeing, all-knowing Glorificus," said one of the minions. "But we know that our wondiferous, miraculous, imperial—"

"I know what you've been doing," Glory said to the Doctor. "Convincing my minions to leave me. Don't think I haven't noticed. When I'm a goddess, again, I'm going to hunt down anyone who's turned against me and make sure they die in the most horrible agony."

"Who?" the Doctor asked her.

Glory blinked. "What?"

"Who are you going to hunt down?" the Doctor asked, again. "Specifically, who? What are their names?"

"They don't have names!" Glory screamed. "Are you insane? They don't need names! They're just my minions!"

The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at the minions. "I suppose you believe they all look the same, too."

"Yes!" Glory snapped.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the minions. "See what she thinks of you? How's she going to know, when she punishes the ones who left? What if she punishes you lot, instead?"

"Our goddess is all-knowing!" one of the minions shouted.

"Doesn't know where the Key is, does she?" the Doctor asked.

The minions all hesitated. Glory, in a fit of rage, snapped the Doctor's neck. A flood of gold energy rippled across his skin, down her arms, and… no, no, it wasn't supposed to do that… it was rebuilding Ben, replacing her with him, killing her off bit by bit, burning her away, until…

Time reconfigured itself, and the Doctor was gone. And alive. As always. Everything was back to the way it would have been if the Doctor had never come to Sunnydale.

Except for Glory's minions.

There were still fewer.

* * *

"Why do you keep torturing me?" Glory demanded of the Doctor, as she strung him up and poked around at his insides, making him writhe in agony.

"I'm not coming back for you," the Doctor hissed, through gritted teeth. "You don't matter."

Glory twisted his respiratory bypass system in a way that made him howl.

That night, she was three more minions down.

* * *

"Why do they keep running off with him?" Glory demanded of her faithful minions.

"They simply do not understand the effulgent radiance of your sublime, resplendent—"

"I mean, I keep beating him," Glory interrupted, getting up from her couch and pacing the ornate room. "I keep hurting him. I keep killing him — not that that helps. But they just keep leaving me!"

One of the minions shuffled, slightly. "Well, maybe… I mean, not to put down your illustrious, marvelous, majestic—"

"Cut to the point, shorty," Glory snapped.

"He's sort of… well, nice," the minion admitted.

Glory stopped in her pacing. "Huh?"

"Not that I believe one word of his lies, or have even considered listening to his traitorous words, but… he asks us our names," the minion said. "He talks to us like we're real people."

"Are you stupid?" Glory demanded. She kicked the minion in the stomach, slamming him against the wall. "You're not real people! You don't have names! Your only purpose is to serve me!"

There was silence for a moment.

"I have a name," one of the minions on the far side of the room offered.

Glory spun around to glare at the minion that had dared to speak and defy her will. In two strides, she'd picked the minion up and snapped his neck. She looked around at the others. "Anyone else think they've got a name?"

And Glory had absolutely no idea why, later that day, she found ten more minions missing.

* * *

"You're not even making a dent in my minions, you know," said Glory, as she cut the knife blade across the Doctor's torso. "I've got tons more! And on my day of victory, I will crush you and all you've gathered against me."

"Been said before."

Glory thrust the knife blade deeper into his shoulder, until he hissed in pain.

"You just don't get that you're nothing to me!" said Glory. "Less than nothing! You don't matter!"

The Doctor just grinned. Because he knew she was lying.

And every second he kept Glory distracted was one more second that Buffy and Dawn weren't in peril. Every second he kept Glory fixated on him was one more second that Buffy and Dawn could live their own lives. Every second he kept Glory intent on making his life miserable was another moment less that she had to work out how to kill Dawn and end the universe.

And every second that Glory tortured the Doctor, she was making his point to her minions.

He always came back for them, those poor abused people that Glory employed as slaves. He would always keep coming back for them, giving them a chance to choose a better way, giving them freedom and happiness and a way to escape their Mistress. He would always return for them.

Because he was the Doctor.

And he could save them.


	31. Funeral, Rewrite

Funeral

Buffy stood in front of her mother's grave. Not speaking. Not moving. Barely daring to breathe.

Around her, the ceremony finished, and a swarm of people surrounded her, saying things to her that she barely heard. That barely mattered. She was alone.

And after everyone had left, and only Buffy remained, her eyes still fixed on that grave, she heard soft footsteps behind her. She didn't turn around.

A woman stepped up next to her. One with blonde hair, hazel eyes, attired in a blue jacket and black slacks. She didn't have the gun, this time.

Buffy darted her eyes over at Rose. Rose met those eyes with her own.

And there was loss in Rose's eyes. A loss that matched Buffy's, a loss of a parent that you couldn't save, a loss that hurt so much, it felt numb and raw and burning.

"I thought you were supposed to be saving the Earth," said Buffy.

"It can wait," said Rose.

She stayed there, with Buffy, for a few minutes longer, neither saying anything. And then Rose gave Buffy a sad yet supportive smile, turned, and walked back to her mission of saving the world, the multiverse, and the entirety of existence.

In the meantime, Buffy waited for someone she didn't know.

Who never came.

* * *

Rewrite

The Doctor hunched over the central console as he tried to plug in the coordinates. But as he got closer and closer to the date-time marker, the time turbulence got greater and greater. He was never sure where and when he was going to land. And he'd noticed that he could intervene less and less.

A causal string, all leading to one point. One outcome.

The Doctor killing Dawn Summers.

But, no! It had to be possible, the Doctor knew, to save Dawn's life. That was what the TARDIS key told him. While there was a great big fixed point around that area of space and time, Dawn's death was _not_ the fixed point in time. The TARDIS key was a spark of hope, letting the Doctor know that there _was_ a probability, however remote, that Dawn would survive this.

(Unless he only dropped off the key, later, because he remembered finding Dawn with it, now.)

The Doctor pushed the thought out of his mind. He needed to get to Sunnydale. He needed to find a way to fix this. The Key was _his_ responsibility, and no one else was going to take the fall for him, this time.

He was going to save Dawn Summers.

(Or kill her.)


	32. Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy tries to come to terms with the idea that she might be turning into her other-self, as she goes on a Slayer Quest to discover whether being the Slayer means losing her ability to love.

"To slay. To kill," Buffy told Giles. "It means… being hard on the inside. Maybe… being the perfect Slayer means being too hard to love at all." She glanced out the window. "I already feel like I can hardly say the words."

Giles took off his glasses. "Buffy—"

"Giles," Buffy cut in, snapping her eyes back to him. "I love you."

Giles blinked, clearly taken aback. He opened his mouth to say something, then realized he had no words, and shut it.

Buffy made a face. "Love," she repeated. "Love, love, love, love, love! See, Giles? It feels strange!"

Giles raised his eyebrows, putting his glasses back on his face. "I shouldn't wonder."

* * *

Buffy sat down beside her sister, a hand around Dawn's shoulders. She looked into her eyes. "I love you, Dawn," she said. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," said Dawn, a little confused. "I love you, too."

"No, I _love_ you," Buffy tried again. " _Really_. Love you."

Dawn gave an uneasy laugh. "Okay… gettin' weird, here."

* * *

"Willow," said Buffy, "I love you."

Willow froze, still bent over the book she was studying in the Magic Box. "Well, yeah, okay," she said. "That's great, Buffy."

"No, Will," Buffy tried again. "I _love_ you."

Willow fidgeted in place. "Okay," she said. "Is this, like, a platonic thing, still? Because… if we're going into girlfriend territory, then I've got to warn you, Tara's going to be a little angry."

* * *

"Xander," said Buffy. "I love you."

Xander blinked at her. Then looked down at Anya, who was at his side. "You know, you could have had better timing. Like, say, three or four years ago."

"You can't love Xander," Anya snapped. "He's mine!" She gave Buffy an evil stare. "Hands off Xander."

* * *

"I… I'm just… starting to feel uneasy about stuff," Buffy admitted to Giles, sitting down on the living room couch, her hands folded in her lap.

"Stuff?" asked Giles, sitting beside her.

"Training, Slaying, all of it," said Buffy, staring down at her hands. "It's just… I mean, I can beat up the demons until the cows come home. And then I can beat up the cows. But… I'm not sure I like… what it's doing to me."

"But you've mastered so much," said Giles. "I mean, your strength and resilience alone—"

"Yeah," said Buffy, nodding. "Strength, resilience. Those are all words for hardness." She stared off into the distance, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. "I'm starting to feel like being the Slayer is turning me into stone."

Giles shook his head. "Turning you into stone? Buffy…"

"Just… think about it!" said Buffy, getting up from the couch. "I was never there for Riley. Not like I was for Angel. I was terrible to Dawn."

"But at a time like this—" Giles began.

"No," Buffy cut in.

"—you're bound to feel emotionally numb," Giles continued.

"Before that," Buffy said. "I've been shut down, Giles. And because of that, everyone's left. Riley's gone. The Doctor barely shows up anymore. Now my Mom is gone, and…" Buffy gazed down at the floor, her voice coming out choked and quiet, "…and I loved her more than anything." She gave a small shrug. "And… I don't know if she knew."

Giles got up off the couch. "Oh, she knew," he said, coming over to Buffy. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Always."

"Giles," said Buffy, "I never told her. I never told… anyone. I can't even say the words without it being weird. Love. Love. Love. It feels wrong! I can't…" She took a deep breath. "I've worked it out, Giles. There's this… other part of me. And I've known about her for years, but I never knew… who she really was."

Giles nodded. The Slayer side of her. Of course.

"She's a killer, Giles," said Buffy. "Insane, psychotic. Unable to even say the words, 'I love you' anymore. And the scariest thing is… she's me."

"Buffy, that isn't—"

"But she is!" said Buffy. "That's what this Line-Hopper thing means! If it happened to her, it can happen to me, Giles! It _is_ happening to me. I can feel it." She shook her head. "I can't let myself become… _her_. I can't let the Slayer turn me into something I'm not."

Giles put his glasses back on his face. "How serious are you about this?" he asked, sitting on the coffee table.

Buffy went over to the couch. "Ten." She sat down, nestling her hands between her knees. "Serious to the point of ten."

Giles thought a moment, then turned to face her, with a small sigh. "There is something. In the Watchers diaries. A quest."

"A quest?" Buffy asked. "Like, finding a grail or something? Cause… finding Excalibur went over really well."

"Not a grail," said Giles. "Maybe… answers? It'll take a day. Perhaps… two."

Buffy shook her head. "I'm not leaving Dawn. Not with Glory looking for her."

Dawn walked into the room, a bright purple glass in her hands. "Sure you can!" She sat down beside her sister, then noticed Giles' worried face. "What's… the deal?"

"Some Slayers before Buffy found it helpful in regaining their focus," Giles explained. "In learning more about their role. There's a sacred place in the desert. It's… not far."

"But I can't go," Buffy said. She turned to her sister. "I'm not leaving you, Dawn."

"If you have to go learn," said Dawn, "I mean, if it'll help you out… I think you should do it. I can hang with the gang. I'll be okay."

And as Buffy looked at her sister, she realized. She had to let her go.

* * *

"This whole thing started with a quest," said Buffy to Giles, in the car, on the way to the desert. "And now it's ending with a quest."

"Some say that every quest is really a mission of self-discovery," Giles offered. "Perhaps this one — this whole year of your life — has actually been…"

Buffy said nothing.

"Buffy," Giles tried again, "I know this time has been very trying for you, but really—"

"Don't," said Buffy. "Just… don't."

* * *

Buffy went out to the desert, where Giles handed her over to the care of a spirit guide. She didn't understand what that meant, but as she wandered through the sand dunes, she heard a growl to her right. She turned, and saw a lioness sitting on the sand.

"Hello, kitty," she muttered.

She followed the lion across the sand, past the sparse vegetation and the mounting wind. So much like the desert-scape in her dreams, yet somehow lonelier — far, far lonelier. A vast expanse of desert stretching out to swallow one lone girl.

"I love you," she muttered into the wind, as if trying to remind herself how to say the words. "I love you."

As long as she could say them, she was herself. She thought — if she could just remember to love — it would be enough to lead her back from the darkness.

When the lioness finally left her, she sat on a rock, staring out at the desert, examining where the lioness had led her. And the oddest thing was… she remembered it.

_A small boy, crying in her arms, begging her not to call him Hostile 29._

_Tara, a flowing sari wrapped around her, speaking for the Slayer that was attacking Buffy and her friends in their dreams._

Both in this same location. This same sacred spot in the desert.

"I know this place," Buffy said.

* * *

Buffy lay on the rock, half-dozing. A sound, and Buffy shot up and spun around. "Hello?"

No answer.

She sat down on the rock, uneasily, her head still darting from side to side. "Who's there?"

And there, just beyond a bonfire she didn't remember lighting, she could see…

Sineya.

Sineya skulked around the leaping flames, her face obscured by their brightness.

"I know you," Buffy said. "You're the first Slayer."

"This is a form," Sineya corrected. "I am the guide."

Buffy pushed some hair behind her ears. "I have a few questions," she called. "About… being the Slayer." She hesitated. "What about… love? Not just boyfriend love."

"You think you're losing your ability to love?" Sineya asked.

"I… I didn't say that," said Buffy. She faltered, then fixed her eyes down on the ground. "Yeah," she admitted.

"You're afraid that being the Slayer means losing your humanity," said Sineya.

"Does it?"

"You are full of love," said Sineya. "You love with all your soul. It's brighter than the fire. Blinding. That's why you pull away from it."

Buffy blinked. "I'm… full of love? So I'm not losing it?"

"Only if you reject it," said Sineya. "Love is pain, and the Slayer forges strength from pain. Love. Give. Forgive. Risk the pain. It is your nature. Love will bring you to your gift."

Buffy considered this. Then frowned. "Wait, what?" She shook it off. "I'm sorry, I'm just… a little confused. I'm full of love, which is nice. And… love will lead me to my gift?"

"Yes."

"I'm getting a gift?" asked Buffy. "Or are you saying that I have a gift to give to someone else?"

Sineya twirled around the fire, and for a brief moment, her eyes locked with Buffy's own, their gaze almost blinding beyond the leaping flames. And that was when Sineya spoke the words that rebounded through the air, reverberated through Buffy's soul, and echoed in every center of Buffy's mind.

"Death is your gift."

* * *

The first Slayer faded into the night air, leaving Buffy alone, confused, and… okay, yes, scared. More scared than she wanted to admit. Because… love, all that love, all that caring and hopefulness… was that what had driven Elizabeth into her crazy madness? Was the desire to make the world better and save everyone what had ultimately made other-her a psychotic killer?

Was Buffy going to be the same way?

Buffy heard a noise from beside her, and turned, sharply, expecting some other vision or prophecy or…

Oh.

There, standing in the desert sand, some ways away from her, was the Doctor.

"You're not supposed to be here!" Buffy called to him. She waved her hands in the air. "Go away! I'm on a Slayer quest!"

The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, and walked forwards. "Got a message on my psychic paper," he told her, taking out the leather wallet and waving it at her as he approached. "Thought you might need the help." He stood beside her, as she took the psychic paper from his hands and inspected it. "Took me three tries to get here. Time turbulence."

The psychic paper had the following message:

_Doctor,_

_Desperately sad. Need help. Death still infects me. Please, please, help me feel alive, again._

_Buffy_.

Buffy handed it back. "Wow. Even got the whole death thing in there. That's pretty impressive psychic paper."

"Does the trick," the Doctor agreed.

For a moment, they both remained silent, neither really sure what to say.

"What—?" the Doctor asked, while Buffy, at the same time, asked, "Where's Donna?"

"TARDIS," the Doctor answered. "Didn't want to get sand in her shoes. Although, she did mention a number of things that made me suspect she thinks this… meeting… is something it's not. Something rather more… intimate."

Buffy glanced down at her hands. "You haven't been visiting as much, recently."

"I… have," the Doctor admitted. "Just not… with you. Necessarily." He sat down beside her, his elbows resting on his knees, their backs touching. "I've been busy."

"With Glory."

"Yes. And… with being pushed out of the time-stream. Which seems to be happening more and more frequently."

Busy not existing. Busy being forgotten. Busy being… the nothing in their lives that they all felt but could not place.

"Mom's dead," Buffy told him, her back to his, her eyes looking out into the distance. "Brain tumor."

The Doctor said nothing for a long moment. "I'm sor—"

"Don't say that," said Buffy. She glanced down at the ground. "I needed you. And even when I could remember you, you didn't come."

The Doctor didn't answer.

"I made so many excuses for you," said Buffy. "But in the end… I guess none of it matters. The point is, you weren't there. That whole time. You just… weren't."

The Doctor still said nothing.

"So, what happens now?" Buffy asked. "Mom's dead. Riley's gone. You're going to kill my sister. Is this the part where I go completely insane and kill off the entire town of Sunnydale just so I can make you suffer? Or is this the part where I string you up and feed you to vampires and force you to believe that everything in the universe is your fault? Is that what I'm becoming?"

"You always have a choice," the Doctor whispered.

"I've _never_ had a choice," Buffy said. "Mom… is dead. Dawn is some universe-destroying… whatever. You're busy being all non-existy half the time, and… and…" She closed her eyes. "And I'm becoming her."

"Elizabeth…"

"See?" said Buffy. "I mean, when you first met me, I hated that name. And now, it's like... I can't get enough of it. I'm dying, Doctor. A part of me is dying. No. A part of me is Death." She stared off at where the First Slayer had appeared to her. "Death is my gift."

"You're not Death."

Buffy gave a humorless laugh. "She just said it. Death is my gift. That's what I am."

The Doctor got up from the rock, running a hand through his hair. "It's not… when you have a responsibility, you always… wind up in these sorts of situations," the Doctor said. "Death and destruction seem to follow you, because you follow them. But that doesn't make you evil. It doesn't mean you cause them. It doesn't—"

"Doctor," Buffy cut in, her eyes still fixed down on the ground. "I love you."

The Doctor said nothing for a moment. "Sorry?"

Buffy looked over her shoulder at him. "I love you," she said. "In spite of everything that's happened, and everything that you screwed up, I just…" She swallowed. "…love you."

For a moment, they both just stayed where they were, frozen in the night air, unable to speak or move or anything.

And the next thing that Buffy knew, they were together. Clutching one another, so tightly, so desperately, as if they were all each other had. Because they _were_ all each other had. And she could feel something stirring, deep down inside, something she hadn't felt inside her head since the day she'd gotten drugged out on caveman-beer. Something musical and beautiful and lyrical, blossoming inside her mind.

She closed her eyes, as she kept kissing him, and… there it was. So bright and glowing and brilliant, like sunshine, and all Buffy had to do was just reach out and touch it. Just like last time, when she'd been interrupted, just like last time when she'd asked what that next step was, and the Doctor hadn't told her.

Buffy stepped into the music, stepped into the light, stepped into his mind.

And this time, she found out what came next.

* * *

They were curled together, in the desert sand, arms wrapped around one another. His hearts thudding against her back. Buffy gave a soft laugh.

"What?" asked the Doctor.

"I just realized," said Buffy, "that I had sex without removing any clothes. At all."

"Well, it's not exactly…" He faltered. "I mean… not in the way that humans… you know…"

"I know," said Buffy. Because calling it something like 'sex' would be one of those scary domestic human things that the Doctor didn't do. And it didn't matter that it kind of, sort of felt like sex. A lot. Except… in her head. Which was weird. "What do you call it, then? Head-butting?"

"Mental cleansing."

Buffy tried her hardest to stifle a laugh.

"What?" asked the Doctor. "It is!"

"I can't believe you, sometimes," said Buffy. But, the weird thing was… her head _did_ feel clearer. Like everything was suddenly okay. Like all that sorrow and guilt and heartache was just… more manageable. Understandable. Put in their places. Like she could see her life and her purpose and her goals and see how to achieve them.

"It's a Time Lord technique for processing our more troubling thoughts," said the Doctor. "A complete telepathic merging of minds. An intimate yet very effective form of… well, telepathic sorting-out."

"Therapy?" Buffy asked.

"Not… exactly," the Doctor said. "Unless… your therapist was Jack Harkness. Then I'd say, yes, bit like therapy."

"So all those times you got super-duper depressed, it was just because you weren't having sex?" Buffy gave another laugh. "You know, if you'd told me that, maybe we'd have done this sooner."

"You're the one who's seen my future," the Doctor pointed out. "You can tell me why I didn't."

Buffy snuggled into him, a little tighter. "You know, future-you did mention that there was some kinky human stuff you could throw in while you were going at it," she said. "You wouldn't want to… you know?"

Behind her, the Doctor froze.

Buffy turned around, in his arms, to face him. "Doctor?"

He was still. Far, far too still. His hearts were beating a little too fast. His breath coming a little too rapidly. Was he… afraid? Was this one of those too-much-like-a-scary-domestic-human-thing things?

"Or… not," Buffy put in, quickly. "I mean, we could just stay here, being all super Doctor-Buffy-sandwich together with our clothes on looking like we're just kissing." She paused. "Actually that would be super weird. I mean… on the outside… we really are just kissing, right? We could do this in the middle of a busy street and no one would know."

The Doctor cringed. "I think someone might… work it out. What with the moaning and… some… other things."

Buffy wrapped her arms around him, snuggled into him a little tighter. Her Doctor. Her role model, mentor, lover. Her spirit guide. Her life.

"I'm ready," she said. "To come with you."

The Doctor stared at her. "I'm sorry?"

"After this whole thing with Dawn and Glory ends," said Buffy. "Just… please. Take me with you. Like you kept offering, before." She looked into his eyes. "When I'm with you, I feel alive."

The Doctor glanced down at the two of them, interwoven together. "If you come with me, this… what we're doing now… can't happen. Ever again. With my companions — it's too big a risk."

Buffy said nothing for a long moment. Then, "Okay."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

"I need you," said Buffy. "I don't get what that means, but… I'm willing to find out. If you are."

The Doctor pulled away from her, shaking his head. "Elizabeth," he said — in that beautiful, graceful, amazing way he always did when he called her that — "your sister."

"You've got a time machine," Buffy pointed out. "You take me off, and I can always come back the moment after I left. And if you get me back late, and Dawn's super screwed up and stuff, then you'd better—"

"Not that."

Of course not that. Buffy knew what he meant. He meant what about if he had to kill Dawn. If worst came to worst, and Dawn died and Buffy went insane and started going all other-her on the Doctor.

"I'm not other-me," Buffy told him. "I'm choosing not to be." She looked away. "And… besides. You're not killing Dawn. Period."

If it had to be anyone killing Dawn, it would be Buffy. Because then Buffy couldn't blame anyone but herself. That was her choice.

"She doesn't have to die," the Doctor said. "That TARDIS key — there's a chance that Dawn survives this. There's some probability we can tap into, some way that..."

"Stop," said Buffy. "I just… can't think about this. Not now." She closed her eyes. "Sometimes, it feels like that's all I ever think about."

She felt arms wrap around her, and she leaned into them, trying to gain comfort from them, trying to let him light her way for her.

"If Dawn dies," she whispered, "then I'm leaving with you. And I'm never coming back."

The Doctor said nothing, as they cuddled together, in the night air. Sharing the warmth and comfort of two bodies, two minds, both so unsure of what to do next. Both so lost, alone, afraid. Both taking comfort in one another, because they didn't know when or whether they'd get another moment like this.

They fell asleep wrapped in one another's arms.

* * *

Buffy awoke, the next morning, alone. But… she'd always been alone. Completely alone, now. With Mom gone. And Dawn being threatened.

Buffy looked down at the sand, and thought she could almost make out the indentation of another body in the grains beside her. She reached forwards, but the wind blew the indentation away.

_Remember. There's someone out there you can't live without. Someone you're not remembering, and the fact you're not remembering him is tearing you apart._

Buffy turned around and left. It was time to find Giles. It was time to finish what she'd started.

Her quest.


	33. Endgame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's endgame for both Buffy and Rose. And they both have difficult choices ahead.

Glory had taken Dawn.

Buffy kept punching the punching bag in her training room at the back of the Magic Box, over and over again, trying not to think about what this meant.

Glory had taken Dawn. Glory would activate Dawn. The moment Dawn activated, the only way to close the inter-universal portal and save all of existence was to kill Dawn.

Buffy would have to kill her sister.

Buffy punched the bag even harder, over and over again. It wasn't fair! Wasn't, wasn't, wasn't fair! Not at all. She'd lost everything, everyone. And now she was about to lose Dawn.

A flash out of the corner of Buffy's eye, and she snapped her head up to discover Rose standing just in front of her, great big Dalek-killing gun in hand, still attired in that blue jacket and those black slacks.

Rose and Buffy just met one another's eyes for a moment.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" they both shouted, at once.

* * *

Rose dropped her gun onto the ground and began pacing around the room, her hand up to her ear, speaking as if to thin air.

"Command, I got diverted, again," said Rose. "That fused timeline. I'm gonna need another jump to…" She trailed off, freezing in mid-step, her every facial feature growing panicked. "What d'you mean, gone?"

Buffy stepped back, crossing her arms, waiting for Rose to just disappear and get out of her life so she could get on with being pissed off at this stupid sucky universe that seemed intent on making sure Buffy's life was hell.

"It can't just be gone!" Rose shouted. "It's an entire planet! It couldn't have just… disappeared!"

She paused, breathing heavily, her eyes growing more and more worried, her hands trembling.

"Just… do what you can. Get a lock on it," she said, at last. "If Earth's just disappeared, I've got to make sure I get to wherever it's gone. Remember: the moment this whole thing starts, everything's gonna get destroyed and everyone's gonna die." She paused, then gave a muttered, "Thanks."

She turned, and slumped onto a nearby bench, her head in her hands. It was only at that point that she realized Buffy was staring at her.

"Sorry," said Rose. "This is just… a really, really bad time."

"No arguments here," said Buffy.

"Endgame for you, too?" Rose asked.

"End of everything."

Rose nodded. "Same." She buried her head in her hands, and gave a long sigh. "It's just… I thought I fixed this. I went back, I found Donna, I told her that she had to make that sacrifice. Kill herself in the fake world so she could restore the real one. And she did. I thought… I thought I made it all better. But if you're still in trouble…" She glanced up at Buffy. "You still have no idea who the Doctor is?"

Buffy just shrugged. It hardly mattered, now, did it?

"And if the Earth's just disappeared," said Rose, "then… I don't know what to do. I really, really don't." She rested her hands on her knees, and stared off into the distance. "I'm lost."

"At least you're not the one whose just worked out that she has to kill her sister," Buffy muttered, giving the punching bag several more good punches.

Rose snapped her head over to Buffy. "What?"

"My sister has to die," Buffy gritted through her teeth. "And I have to kill her. Otherwise, every single reality goes kaboom. I've lost everything. Everything I've ever had! And now I have to lose her, too!"

Buffy kept punching that punching bag, over and over again, her anger flooding through her, her despair and pain and sorrow overwhelming her.

A hand rested on her arm.

"So don't," Rose told Buffy.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" Buffy cried. "If I don't, then every wall between realities is going to collapse! Everything's going to fall apart! The universe — every universe — is going to end!"

"There's always a better way," Rose told her. "That's what the Doctor would say."

Buffy seethed. "I'm sick of listening to you ramble on and on about your precious Doctor!" she retorted. "I've spent this last year finding out just how worthless doctors really are! Doctors couldn't save my mom! Doctors couldn't save my sister! In fact, the only doctor I trusted wound up turning into an evil Hell Goddess who's about to end the world!"

Rose took her hand away and stepped back. Buffy resumed punching that punching bag, over and over again, her anger vented on the inert object.

"I've got a brother," Rose said. She faltered. "Kind of. He's… I guess I thought I'd never have a sibling, because my dad was dead and Mum never remarried. But then we wound up in a parallel universe and now, I've got a brother. Tony." She smiled. "And I love him. More than anything."

Buffy stopped punching the bag. She glanced over at Rose.

"If I found out that I had to sacrifice Tony to save the universe, I wouldn't do it," Rose said. "I'd find another way. I'd always find another way."

Buffy clenched her hands, and spun around to glare at Rose. "You think I haven't tried that?" Buffy shouted. "You think I haven't done everything I can think of? I love her! And I'm going to lose her! You think there's anything I can do to fix this?"

"Yeah," said Rose. "I do. I always have."

Buffy blinked. "What?"

"You don't know how I first met you," said Rose. "Cause it hasn't happened for you, yet. Your future. It's sort of… complicated. Like I said. But when I was a kid, I made… a mistake. Dated someone I shouldn't have." She closed her eyes in pain. "He made me feel like I was… worthless. Horrible. Nothing. And I spent a long time thinking that." She opened her eyes and glanced up at Buffy. "But then, one day, this… woman showed up, out of the blue, and saved my life. She beat up Jimmy, then took me out for ice cream and told me that I wasn't worthless. That I was really important. And that woman was you."

Buffy frowned. "Huh?"

"And you kept saving my life," said Rose. "Kept showin' up and dragging me out of danger, over and over again. I didn't know why, but you… said I was important. 'N I thought maybe… just maybe… you were right. So in 2005, when I was standing there, beneath the London Eye, with Mickey whimpering on the floor, scared to death, 'n the Doctor bein' threatened, I thought… this is your chance, Rose. To be important. Just like Buffy always told you."

Buffy shook her head. "Look, I've got no idea what you're talking about, but… I don't know you! All these things you're talking about — they never happened! They're not real!"

"They haven't happened to you," said Rose. "That doesn't mean they're not real."

"You're not my friend!" Buffy shrieked. "You're just someone that pops up in my life, over and over again for no apparent reason, and does totally random stuff that I don't understand…"

Rose grinned. "That's what it felt like," she agreed. She fixed her eyes off into the distance. "Just some… superhero who kept running into my life and saving the day. I never thought… you'd wind up being someone just like me."

Buffy stared at her. "Who are you?"

"I'm a human being," said Rose. "Like you. And we human beings don't give up. That's what the monsters never understand. Whether it's trying to find the Doctor, or trying to locate a missing planet, or trying to save your little sister — we're human beings, and we'd do anything to protect the people we love."

Buffy slumped. "Yeah," she admitted. "I just… don't get how. If the ritual begins, if the portal opens…"

"You don't need to kill your sister," Rose told her. "I know someone who can close portals to other universes. When I find him, I promise, I'll tell him what's going on, here. I'll make sure he comes back and fixes this all."

"Your Doctor?"

"Yeah," said Rose, with a smile. "You don't need to kill anyone to stop the end of the universe, Buffy. All you need is a Time Lord. Remember that."

Buffy was about to reply, when Rose turned away, suddenly, her hand back up to her ear.

"Where is it?" Rose asked the air. She paused, listening to the answer. "Well, where's that?" She paused. "Oh, never mind. Just get me there." She walked over and picked up her gun, steadying it in her hands.

She turned back to Buffy, and gave her a hopeful smile that spoke of all the fear and terror that was really coursing through her veins.

"Good luck," said Buffy.

"And to you," said Rose, as she faded into the air. "Elizabeth."

And usually, when Rose left, Buffy forgot about her. Usually, when Rose left, Buffy forgot everything. But this time, Buffy remembered.

* * *

The ritual had begun.

Buffy was up in the air, with Dawn, standing on a rickety platform high above Sunnydale. Dawn was crying, her blood spilt, the blue electric portal swirling open behind her. Around them, the universe was crumbling, the walls between worlds were all colliding, and Buffy didn't know how to stop it without doing the one thing she could never do.

She looked at her sister. Dawn. Her wonderful, amazing little sister. Who she loved so very, very much. The one whose death would close the portal. The one whose death would save the world.

In the distance, the sun began to rise.

It was at that moment, as Buffy felt the gentle glow of the sunlight and the morning air brushing across her face, as she looked at that sun — _a star, a spark of hope illuminating the darkness of night_ — that it all came together.

_"Your timeline… is weird," Rose had said. "Sometimes, it's almost as if… there's two of you."_

_Buffy holding Dawn, so tightly, telling her that she loved her, wanting to make sure that Dawn knew it, understood it._

_"There's someone else," some other TV Buffy had said. "Someone out there that you're not remembering." The red notebook flashing in front of the camera. "This notebook isn't blank!"_

_"The world's just the way it always is," Anya had mentioned, after watching the recording. "You're just missing a person."_

_"You knew him," Rose had told her, the mysterious Yale key in her hand. "He's been here."_

Two hers. Two Buffys. One with a Time Lord, and one without.

_You don't need to kill anyone to stop the end of the universe, Buffy. All you need is a Time Lord._

Love would lead her to her gift. Death. Death was her gift.

Buffy turned from Dawn, and ran towards the glowing blue energy of the portal.

"Buffy! No!" Dawn shouted after her.

But Buffy knew. If this was a portal linking every world, every reality, then it linked her with the reality where there was someone else. Someone who could fix this. Someone who could guard the Key and keep it safe. This was where it had always been leading. Where everything had always been leading. This was the end.

Buffy jumped. And died.

And in another timeline, in a time and place far removed from our own, the Doctor was born.


	34. Epilogue I: One Week

**_Sunnydale, May 13, 1999 — One Week Before The Mayor's Ascension_ **

The Doctor had been putting off going back to the space-time marker. He thought… he'd have to do it. To kill Dawn, to destroy Buffy's life, to make the timeline work out just as it had last time, with Elizabeth.

But then he'd responded to a call on the psychic paper, and had gone back in Buffy's past. Back to the time that Xander had yelled at him about, the time when the Mayor was about to Ascend, and he'd told them nothing that could help them.

It was only then that the Doctor realized that Buffy had his soul. And that entire last year had all made sense. Why he couldn't interfere. Why that point in time was fixed. Why the universe kept writing him out of the events.

Buffy had jumped into that portal, linking the two timelines.

And it pained him to think of her believing, so strongly, that she would die. It pained him to think of her giving up hope, as she made her dying wish. But he knew that she, like him, would wake up, realize that she had survived the experience, that she was alive and didn't know why or what her purpose was, and that she would need help. Guidance.

Here, in his TARDIS, right now, he was facing a younger Buffy. A Buffy Summers who didn't have a sister. A Buffy Summers who wasn't in love with him. A Buffy Summers who'd just saved his soul from eternal torment inside a Dalek Hell designed specifically to torture _him_.

"There is one thing you can do for me," Buffy ventured to ask him. "Just… you know. In return for my saving your life and everything."

The Doctor looked up from the central console. "I can't help Faith, either," he said.

"No, it's nothing to do with any of that," Buffy said. "It's just… a promise. Just, because Angel's leaving and there's all this uncertainty and I don't even know what's in my future, even though you sure seem to, and…" She took a deep breath.

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Just… promise me you'll come back," said Buffy. "Please. Promise me you'll never stop coming back."

The Doctor's face melted into a sincere smile. "I promise," he said.

And as he left her on Earth with her friends, he knew it was true. Because… it was time. The Doctor had lost Donna. He'd lost Rose, again. He'd lost everyone that ever mattered to him, and now he was alone. So very, very alone.

And after his time in that Dalek Infiltration Device, after being subjected to a hell nearly half as bad as the Time War, after realizing that Elizabeth hadn't just hated him enough to try to kill him, but had hated him enough that she'd nearly condemned his soul to eternal agony, the Doctor knew he couldn't keep being alone. He was really starting to believe he was the murderer that Davros accused him of being. He was really starting to believe that he couldn't help anyone.

Particularly after this adventure, leaving the Scoobies in Sunnydale to fight against Richard Wilkins, who wanted to eat them all, giving them no help and telling them nothing useful — it hurt. So very, very much. A voice inside kept repeating that he _should_ have told them.

That Xander was right.

The Doctor _should_ have ignored the laws of time, gone with his own instincts, and just saved everyone in Sunnydale. Once and for all. And he hadn't.

(It was that guilt, that insistence that had made him leave Buffy with those memories still intact. All the memories of the Concurrence, all the information she'd need to defeat the Mayor. All the information she really shouldn't have had.)

Now, here the Doctor was. Alone. Again.

And he needed her.

(Buffy Summers.)

Beneath the shadows, beneath the bluster, beneath all of it, the Doctor was someone who needed her. So very, very much.

The Doctor set the coordinates for Sunnydale. Sometime after the date-time marker, perhaps enough of a ways out that Buffy could put everything in order, could straighten out her life and pack and make sure that she was ready to go off with him. Enough time that she would be sure, when he asked her, that she was ready for this…

Ooh, that was odd. Very odd. A bizarre set of temporal jumps, right around August 3rd, 2001.

The Doctor set the coordinates. Well, this could be brilliant, actually. Just what he needed! He'd find Buffy, work out these temporal jumps, save the world, and then they'd go off together. On to their next adventure, somewhere else in time and space.

Buffy and the Doctor.

The Doctor's TARDIS landed with a thud, and the Doctor did something tricky and rather brilliant to his TARDIS that would neutralize the time skips as much as possible. Then he went out to investigate, sonic in hand, trying to find the source of the disturbance.

He found Buffy being harassed by a vampire, which he scared off with no effort at all. Then he grinned at Buffy, expecting a warm welcome and a hug.

What he got was a punch in his jaw. And the realization that this wasn't Buffy.

Because Buffy was dead.

Gone forever.

Dead.

(And she was never, ever coming back.)

* * *

**_Sunnydale, May 29, 2000 — One Week After Buffy's Death_ **

The minions were running.

The demons and evil things lurking in the night had worked out that Glory's scheme hadn't been intended to send Earth into Hell. It had been intended to destroy everything in the universe, with Glory safely on the other side.

That got them angry.

The minions didn't know what to do. They'd all worshipped Glory, their all-wonderful, all-powerful goddess. But now she was dead, and her plans had all failed, and there was no one left to protect them anymore.

They rounded a corner, and found themselves trapped in a dark, abandoned alley. They spun around, and watched as the evil, murderous hell beasts all stalked towards them, ready to tear them apart.

That was when a burst of wind rushed through the alley, and a blue box appeared beside the minions. The door opened, flooding the evening with an ethereal white light, and emerging from that light was a man. A skinny man in a brown pinstripe suit, his hand extended towards the minions.

"Come with me," he told them.

The minions looked at one another, then ran inside the box.

The moment they were all safely inside that box and the door was shut, the minions began doing what they did best. They went down onto their hands and knees and began to bow, singing praises to this "almighty Doctor" who had saved them, promising to worship him and serve him with no thought to themselves.

The Doctor just stood by the central console, seemingly deaf to their fawning and adoration, his eyes fixed on a sheet of paper in his hands. A paper upon which was written the words, "Blame Sheet."

"Get up," the Doctor said, and his voice was soft, quiet, but colder than the most biting winter storm.

The minions all hesitated, but stumbled to their feet.

The Doctor still didn't face them, still didn't even acknowledge them there, in his fabulous, glorious, wonderful time-ship.

"Oh holy, sweet, wonderful, magnificent Doctor," the minions tried again. "We promise to worship you, and praise you, and sing your…"

"Don't you dare," the Doctor growled. He spun around, and the look on his face was so dark, thunderous, and angry, that every one of the minions backed away from it. They realized that this hadn't, exactly, been the salvation they'd all thought.

The Doctor advanced upon them, his eyes scanning each and every one of their faces.

"Someone has died out there," the Doctor said, "someone better than any of you! Someone who should never have had to die! And all because of your twisted, ridiculous devotion!" He stopped, his entire posture radiating anger and disgust. "And I promise that the next person who so much as mentions the word 'god' will wish I'd left them out there. Do you understand?"

The minions all nodded, afraid to speak.

"Someone far more clever than me gave me some advice," said the Doctor. "She said to stop blaming myself for other people's mistakes. Place the blame where it really lies. And I may have made this timeline alteration possible, but _I_ wasn't the reason that these events happened. _I_ wasn't the one who made it a choice between two innocent girls' lives and the entire infinity of the multiverse! _I_ wasn't the one who put them in this situation!" He glared at the minions. "You did."

"We… we were simply following orders!" one of the minions begged him.

"We only did as our magnificent, splendi…" the next minion trailed off, then coughed. "I mean, we only did as we were told."

"Then you should have said, 'no!'" the Doctor shouted. "You should have refused!" He took a few sharp, furious breaths. "I gave you all a choice. Each and every one of you. I told you, over and over again, what was going to happen. I warned you! But you kept going. You gave Glory the means, the tools, and the encouragement to make sure that this happened. You allowed all of this to take place!"

"We've learned our lesson!" said one of the minions. "We have seen the error of our ways, what has come from worshipping the false goddess, and we swear now to worship only you, oh wondrous—"

"You've learned nothing!" the Doctor cut in. "What did you do wrong? Tell me that. Anyone?"

"We… we betrayed the forces of light," a minion offered. "We worshipped the Abomination, when we should have worshipped you, oh glorious—"

"That," said the Doctor, "is the wrong answer." He seethed at them. "You tried to kill an innocent person! A child, only fourteen years old, who had her own life and dreams and aspirations. You tied her up, shoved her onto a board, and tried to bleed her to death, taking the rest of the universe with her. You tried to kill one innocent person, and wound up murdering another one. _That's_ what you did wrong!"

The minions all stood, in silence, shaking in their brown sack cloths. None of them were sure what to say. They knew what they'd say to Glory, in this situation, how to appease her, but… this man… this Doctor…

What could they possibly say to him?

"Are you going to kill us?" one of the minions asked, at last.

The Doctor stepped back. "No," he admitted. "I'm going to make sure that you live. And I'm going to make sure that you never, not for a single second, forget that you killed an innocent girl. Not you, not your children, and not your children's children. I'm going to make you live with the pain, the loss, the guilt, and I'm going to make sure you never, ever forget her."

"Oh, all exultant, splendid, wonderful Doctor!" the minions cried. "We are so grateful that you—"

"Enough!" the Doctor shouted, and all the minions fell into silence, all at once. "This is your last day of worshipping another person — no matter who or what that person claims to be. From now on, you're going to spend every single day of your lives devoting yourselves to the ideals of friendship, love, and justice. You are going to slave for these ideals, spend every single ounce of your strength building a good and happier future, or so help me, I will personally ensure that you suffer a fate far worse than the death you deserve."

The minions all nodded, their terrified eyes fixed on the Doctor.

The Doctor turned back to the central console, his eyes landing on the sheet of paper he'd abandoned there — the Blame Sheet. "Take this down," he muttered. "I'm going to tell you a story, now. A story that I want to make sure you never, ever forget." He picked up the paper, and studied it with eyes that burned with a deep, despairing sorrow. "A story of a girl named Buffy Anne Summers."

* * *

**_Sunnydale, October 13, 2001 — One Week After Buffy's Resurrection_ **

Buffy walked out of the Magic Box, and sat outside, just staring off into the distance.

She felt dead.

She'd given up her life, given up everything, just so she could save Dawn and her friends and the multiverse. She was supposed to die. She should have died.

But here she was. Alive.

She stared off into the distance, at the bright sun beating down on the Sunnydale sidewalks. She didn't fit in with this world anymore. She needed to leave. She needed to understand what it was like to live again. She needed…

The Doctor.

So she waited. Waited out here, where she would be able to hear the familiar sounds of the trumpeting TARDIS, if he came. Waited out here for the Doctor to arrive, carry her away. She waited for something to happen.

Nothing ever did.

"He sort of… stopped by," Dawn had told Buffy, a few nights ago, "while you were dead. He didn't know you'd died, actually. I mean, he knew you jumped, but he didn't know you actually… yeah." She brushed some hair behind her ears. "He was… really, really upset about it. Like, super duper upset. I think he kind of… blamed himself."

Of course he did.

And knowing her friends, all so wrapped up in their own grief and self-blame and insecurities, they'd have done nothing to make the Doctor think any differently. They might not even have noticed his pain at all. It was that grief, blame, and self-hatred that had driven the Doctor to tell her, in December of 1999, that she should kill him. Take her revenge.

"I keep hoping he'll stop by so I can say sorry," Dawn had said. "Because… I was really messed up and freaked out at the time, so I said a bunch of stuff I didn't mean, and… I feel all bad about it, now."

And now Buffy was alive, again.

And the Doctor _had_ to know that! He _had_ to have worked it out, somehow! He knew Jack was still alive, right? Maybe… oh, God, maybe Buffy had been brought back like Jack. Maybe she'd been brought back _wrong_.

Buffy shuddered at the thought.

Or maybe… she wasn't brought back wrong! Maybe the Doctor just didn't know. After all, in spite of appearing, on the outside, to be an all-knowing, super-benevolent Time Lord Superman-type guy, behind the shadows and the legends and all of it, he was just like her. Just like Buffy. He could make mistakes.

Maybe this was a mistake.

Buffy closed her eyes, and focused her mind. And she poured out a message for his psychic paper, one that she hoped would lead him to her.

_Doctor,_

_Desperately sad. Need help. Death still infects me. Please, please, help me feel alive, again._

_Buffy_.

Day after day, Buffy sat outside and waited. Waiting for the Doctor. Waiting for him to get her message, come back, and answer it.

Forgetting he already had.


	35. Epilogue II: 5,000 Years Later

Anthrolandra hated it when Travorzine played the game wrong.

It was an easy game. They all knew it. But Travorzine kept messing it up and pretending things happened that didn't really happen.

"Travorzine!" Anthrolandra complained. "That's not how the game goes!"

Travorzine crossed his arms. "Yeah, well, I'm the one being God, this time, and if I say that this is the way that the game goes, then this is the way the game goes!" He pouted. "I always thought it was stupid that God didn't just run up and save Butheaze, anyways."

Anthrolandra stormed up to him. "God _can't_ save Butheaze," she said. "Because Butheaze dies to light up the sun! That's how the game goes!"

"Yeah?" said Travorzine. "Well… well… I'm God! And I can do anything I want! So… I say Butheaze is saved, and the sun is saved, and everything is going to be good again!" He waved his hand, as if to magically make all the things he just said happen. "There!"

"You're not allowed to save both Butheaze _and_ the sun!" Anthrolandra whined. "It's against the rules!"

"I'm God, and I make the rules!" Travorzine said. "Now, Anthrolandra! Do my bidding!"

Anthrolandra's eyes widened. She turned to all her other friends. "Travorzine just worshipped God!" she accused. "You heard him! He worshipped God!"

"Did not!" said Travorzine.

"Did too!" said Anthrolandra. "And that goes against commandments numbers one, five, and seven! So there!"

"Do you even know commandments one, five, and seven?" Travorzine snapped.

Anthrolandra fidgeted with the hem of her elaborately woven shirt. "I… know that they say you shouldn't worship God!" she said.

Travorzine lifted up his chin, a proud grin on his face. "Commandment one," Travorzine said. "'What? No! I'm not God! Stop worshipping me!' Commandment five. 'Seriously. Don't worship me. Ever!' Commandment seven. 'Stop taking this down! These aren't commandments, I'm not God, and… no, really, stop worshipping me!'"

Anthrolandra felt her face getting hot, because Travorzine was a year older than her, and he'd done that unit in school, while Anthrolandra was a year behind and had to learn it on her own. She hated being treated like she was young and stupid.

She stuck her tongue out at Travorzine. "You're a show off!"

"You're a baby, and a brat!"

"You're a game-hogging God-worshipping bragger!"

"You're… you're… you're _glorious_!"

Every single kid in the yard gasped at the word, staring at Travorzine in wide-eyed horror.

Anthrolandra felt tears coming into her eyes. She was glorious? Glorious! She spun around, and ran off towards her house shouting, "Mommy! Mommy! Travorzine just called me glorious!"

Travorzine shifted from foot-to-foot, a look of complete horror on his face as well. Then he looked at all the kids around him, and stuffed the horror down behind anger. "Well, you are!" he shouted after her. "So… yeah!"

And Travorzine only just stopped himself from chasing after her.

* * *

The leaves on the trees were changing color, that nip had begun to spring up in the air, and Butheaze Day was approaching. For Anthrolandra, it was a very special Butheaze Day. Because this was the first Butheaze Day that she'd be old enough to sit with the grownups and hear the whole story.

"As long as you don't misbehave or make too much noise," Mommy warned her. "Butheaze Day is our most sacred day of the year. It's a day of mourning and reflection, and there are a lot of people who'll be very upset if you speak out of turn."

Anthrolandra had promised to be good. She'd promised to be just like all the other adults. She'd even done the self-reflection thing that her mommy had shown her, where she went through the year and thought up every time she'd ever been mean to anyone, and apologized to them for it.

"Can't I just apologize to God?" Anthrolandra whined. "This is hard!"

"God can't forgive you for the wrongs you've done to others," Mommy had explained. "Remember what God taught us. We worship only the ideals of friendship and love and happiness, not God himself. If we apologize to God, we are worshipping him, aren't we?"

"I guess," said Anthrolandra. "But I don't like apologizing to all these people. Some of them I'm still kind of mad at."

"That is why we have Butheaze Day," Mommy said. "To make sure that you don't stay mad or upset for too long. And to tell God we're sorry for all the wrong we did in the days of old."

"You mean before we were kicked out of Planet Earth?" Anthrolandra asked, trying to show off what a good student she'd been.

"Very good," Mommy praised, patting her sparse hair on her head. "And why were we kicked out of Planet Earth?"

"Because we were mean, and bad," said Anthrolandra, "and we tried to kill people, and we tried to blow out the sun."

"That's right," Mommy agreed. She picked up the dry-cleaning bag, and handed it to Anthrolandra. "Now, go on! Try on your sack cloth. We need to make sure it fits for the holiday."

Anthrolandra didn't like the sack cloth. It was brown, and itchy, and it had these annoying rope ties on it that kept getting tangled.

"Why do we have to wear these things?" Anthrolandra asked Mommy, wiggling around and trying to get comfortable as Mommy tied the ropes into graceful bows. "They're itchy!"

"These were the clothes we wore when we were led astray," Mommy explained. "And — hold still, Anthrolandra! — we wear them, now, to remind us where we came from, how we were led astray, and how easily we might be led astray again, if we fail to uphold God's laws." She finished tying the bow, and stepped back to examine Anthrolandra. "How is it?"

Anthrolandra made a face and stuck out her tongue.

"Not too tight?" Mommy asked.

"No," Anthrolandra admitted. "Just… yucky."

Mommy smiled. "Yucky we can deal with." She leaned down, and undid the bow, taking the outfit off. "Now, go change into your regular clothes, and finish your apologies. Butheaze Day is tomorrow, and if you haven't apologized by then, it might be too late."

Anthrolandra ran off to do as she'd been told.

* * *

Anthrolandra was making sure to be very, very quiet, and not squirm around too much, as everyone got together for Butheaze Day. She couldn't see what was happening on stage when everyone was standing, but when they all sat down, she could see as long as she sat on her knees and craned her neck up really high.

She'd been just like all the adults, this year! Except… Mommy had still made breakfast for her, and told her she had to eat.

"You're too young to fast, yet," Mommy had told her.

But Anthrolandra had picked at her food, and only eaten a really, really small amount, and now she was sitting here, with the adults, watching as their 'Demotratically Electned Priest' (Anthrolandra didn't understand what that meant, but Mommy and Daddy had said it a lot, and she'd memorized it just in case Travorzine tried to tell everyone that she didn't know it) came up and began to read to them from the Book of Butheaze.

"It happened in the Summers of Earth," the Priest read. "Over 5,000 years ago! We were wicked, and bad, and strayed from the ways of light. We worshipped gods who wanted nothing but darkness, and tried to destroy the sun."

"In days of old," the rest of them chanted, "we were wicked, and tried to kill the dawn. But now we repent."

And Anthrolandra listened, just like a good little girl, as the Priest continued to tell the story. As he told of the false goddess, Glory, who was so horribly, evilly glorious that she attempted to drive all light from the heavens, by destroying the dawn. And they had been Glory's willing servants.

Then God had come amongst them. And told them that they were bad, and wrong, and should say sorry and stop doing evil things. And a few did, and he took them away and saved them. But most stayed behind.

And so God returned. And again, he told them they were bad, and wrong, and should say sorry and stop doing evil things. And, again, a few did, and God took those few away and saved them. But most stayed behind.

And a third time, God returned. A third time, God told them that they were bad, and wrong, and should say sorry and stop doing evil things. And a third time, a small number did, a small number that God took away and saved. But most stayed behind.

"And all of us can trace our ancestry back to at least one who chose to stay," the Priest reminded them. "Each and every one of us can say that, in the days of old, we were wrong, we ignored the light and turned to darkness, and we stayed behind to try to kill the dawn."

"For that, we are sorry," everyone chanted. And Anthrolandra was surprised to see that they weren't just saying it like she did when Mommy told her to say sorry and she did so just to get Mommy to go away. They really meant it. Everyone did.

Anthrolandra soon figured out why.

Because she'd heard the story, before. A lot of times. But she'd never heard about all the people who died, because her own people had followed this Glory and done her will, and killed for her. Anthrolandra had never heard about all the little kids who lost their Mommies, and Daddies, and friends, because of her… 'ancheshtorz' (whatever those were). She had never heard about the tears, and the sadness, and the crying out in pain and agony, which her ancheshtorz had pretended not to hear.

Anthrolandra huddled down in her chair. How would she feel if her Mommy and Daddy were taken away? How would she feel if she found everyone she knew dead? How would she feel if she woke up one day and found out that there wasn't any sun, and there'd never be a sun again, and everything would be cold and dark and scary forever? And all the plants would stop growing, and everyone would freeze, and then they'd all die — even Mommy, and Daddy. Even Travorzine!

Anthrolandra knew she had to be an adult, and be quiet and still and not interrupt. But she couldn't help herself. When the Priest began to talk about Butheaze dying to save the dawn, Anthrolandra started to cry.

Mommy picked her up and led her outside, stroking her back and shushing her, gently.

"Butheaze was just a little girl like me!" Anthrolandra cried into Mommy's lap. "And she died, because we were so bad and tried to kill the dawn, and I don't want her to die, Mommy! I don't want any of it to happen!"

"None of us do," Mommy soothed her, patting her back. "That's why we're here. Because we did something very, very bad. And we have to say we're sorry."

"But God will never forgive us!" Anthrolandra wailed. "God loved Butheaze, and we were so mean to her! Travorzine is mean to me, and I don't forgive him! So why would God forgive us?"

"That's why you have to forgive Travorzine," Mommy said. "We all have to say sorry, and forgive, and try to make ourselves better. That's what God told us to do, and that's what we've been doing for 5,000 years."

Anthrolandra sniffled. "Mommy," she whispered. "Do you really think God will forgive us?"

"God brought us here, remember?" Mommy told her. "He could have killed us all, as we deserved. But instead, he saved us, brought us to this new world, and gave us freedom. God believed that we were good inside. We have to show God that we're no longer bad, that we're following God's commandments and helping make the world a better place. Then — and only then — will God forgive us."

Anthrolandra nodded. "I have to say sorry to Travorzine, don't I?"

"Only if you're really, really sorry," Mommy said. "Are you really, really sorry?"

Anthrolandra pouted. "No," she said. "He called me glorious!"

"And what did you call him?"

Anthrolandra said nothing for a moment. "A game-hogging God-worshipping bragger," she admitted.

"And that's not a very nice thing to call someone, is it?" asked Mommy.

"I guess not," Anthrolandra said.

"Especially not someone you really like playing games with," Mommy said.

Anthrolandra said nothing for a lot longer. "Yeah," she admitted.

"So you'd better apologize to him after the gathering is over," said Mommy. "Hadn't you?"

Anthrolandra sighed. "Okay."

* * *

The gathering was over, and everyone had gone outside to stand around and talk to each other about grown-up stuff. Anthrolandra snuck off to go and see if she could find some of her friends.

She found Travorzine.

For a second, she was going to just run away and pretend that she didn't see him, but then she remembered what Mommy had said. So she just stood there, wiggling around in her itchy sack cloth, trying not to look at Travorzine.

He stood in front of her, just as fidgety and uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry I called you glorious," he said.

Anthrolandra jerked her head around and stared at him. She thought that _she_ was supposed to be the one saying sorry! She didn't know that _he_ would do it, too!

"I forgive you," she said, just the way that her mommy had instructed her. She twisted her shoe into the dirt, awkwardly. "And I'm sorry I called you a game-hogging, God-worshipping bragger."

"I forgive you," said Travorzine, just as his Mommy had probably told him.

They stood there, not really sure what to do, now. They'd both said the words, but it hadn't really made them feel any better. They were still kind of angry at each other.

Travorzine hesitated. "Can… we keep playing games together, now?"

"I dunno," said Anthrolandra, staring at the ground. "I thought you said I was just a baby."

"Yeah, but… you're really fun to play games with," said Travorzine. He hesitated. "Please?"

Anthrolandra said nothing for a long moment. She really liked playing games with Travorzine. A lot. And he was a showoff and he was annoying, and liked to call her names, but he was really fun to play with.

She looked up at him, and smiled. "Okay," she said.

* * *

At the end of Butheaze Day, after the stars had appeared in the sky, Anthrolandra changed into her normal clothes. She hadn't ever known how bad their ancheshtorz had been, and how sad Butheaze had been before she died. But now Anthrolandra knew, and she had seen everyone else say that they were sorry and shed tears over what they'd done wrong.

But Anthrolandra hadn't.

Anthrolandra hadn't known the words. She hadn't known when she was supposed to speak and what she was supposed to say. Everyone else had said they were sorry, but Anthrolandra hadn't.

So Anthrolandra stepped outside, into the cool night air, and tilted her head up to examine the stars. The thousand points of light, twinkling out at her through the darkness. Every single one of them a sun that she could save, just to make up for the sun that her ancheshtorz had tried to kill.

Which of those stars had Planet Earth?

Anthrolandra didn't know, so she decided to just pick one and pretend it was Planet Earth. She looked up at the sky, fixated on the sun that her ancheshtorz had tried to kill so long ago, and let all the sadness and yuckiness that she'd felt throughout Butheaze Day pour through her mind. She let herself remember the story she'd just heard…

Butheaze seeing the dawn about to be killed.

Butheaze leaping into a vast blue river of fire, lighting up the sun and saving the dawn.

God realizing what had happened, and crying for his lost love.

"I'm sorry!" Anthrolandra shouted, as loud as she could. "I'm sorry we killed Butheaze! I'm sorry we tried to hurt the dawn! I promise we'll never, ever do it again!"

She could feel tears pouring down her face as she said it.

"Please," she said, her voice faltering. "Forgive us."

* * *

On a hilltop a short ways away, a lone man in a brown pinstripe suit stood in the doorway of his blue box, watching. He held a sheet of paper in his hands, with the title "Blame Sheet" written across the top.

A small, sad smile spread across his lips, as he heard the little girl cry out to the night sky.

"Always," he answered.


End file.
